Chapter Two
The clock had just struck the three-quarter hour when Jane led their mother into the parlour, followed by their father a few minutes later.
“How are you, my dear?” Papa asked Mamma before taking the chair next to hers.
“Oh, Mr. Bennet. Such fluttering and spasms.” Her handkerchief made a reappearance. “How could you anger the one man who will throw me into the hedgerows upon your death?”
“I will admit evicting Mr. Collins from our home was not at the top of my ‘what shall I do today’ tasks. However, what I am about to share is momentous, and will change our lives forever.”
“Forever?” Mamma asked, her eyes widening with fear. “Are you dying? I cannot abide you leaving me. What would I do? I cannot go on without you.”
Their father sat next to his distraught wife, and quietly stopped the trembling in her fingers by covering her hand with his.
“I am not dying, Franny, but there has been a death in the family, and it affects us greatly.”
Elizabeth had a premonition in regard to what her father was about to impart, and was immediately saddened.
“You have news from Bedfordshire?” she asked, guessing correctly.
“I do, Lady Elizabeth,” her father said, confirming what she suspected.
Her eyes filled with unshed tears for the loss of Arthur Bennet, a distant cousin of her father as well as being the last Earl of Rumley down that side of the Bennet family.
The two men had enjoyed a robust relationship through letters, and the Longbourn Bennets, without fail, visited the Tetherwood Bennets every second summer.
To the delight of both Elizabeth and her father, the earl had a substantial library.
Mamma blinked twice and cocked her head, clearly not putting the pieces of the puzzle together.
“You called Lizzy, Lady Elizabeth.”
“That it is the proper way to address the daughter of an earl.” When his wife remained speechless, Papa looked about the room, taking in everyone’s looks of surprise.
“I concede that my news was not presented in the manner I intended, and for that I blame the previous discourse in our breakfast room.”
“Cousin Arthur has died?” Mamma asked, her lip quivering, her eyes pooling with unshed tears. “He was always so kind to me when we visited his estate. He and the countess never made me feel unwelcome or silly.”
“That is because, they did not hold themselves above others. They judged people on merit, not titles.”
“And now, the earldom has fallen to you.”
“It has. With every one of the first earl’s progeny producing only one son per generation, eligible heirs are thin on the ground, and as you may recall, Arthur’s own son died a few years back.
Because of that sad fact, the title has now passed to the line that follows my ancestor, Timothy, the second son of the first earl. ”
Mamma gasped out loud at a sudden realisation. “Lady Lucas will now have to address me as Lady Frances.”
“No, my dear. Like Lady Lucas, you cannot be addressed with your given name, you are not the daughter of a peer. You will be called Lady Rumley. However, I have no plans to broadcast my recent elevation, as I do not want every fortune hunter knocking on our door. Our neighbours and friends will find out after we leave for our new estate.”
Six sets of eyes widened at his announcement of them leaving Longbourn and Hertfordshire.
“Will we have a substantial dowry, Papa?” Lydia asked, bouncing with excitement on the small couch she shared with Kitty. “I shall have my choice of officers, now that we are wealthy. Captain Carter will do nicely. He is so handsome in his uniform.”
“Not one of my daughters will be marrying any time soon.”
“Are you certain of this?” Elizabeth queried, taking Jane’s hand in hers. “Mr. Bingley has been giving our dear sister an inordinate amount of attention.”
“Of which his sisters and Mr. Darcy seek to end.” At the collective gasp of all the females, he began to explain. “I learned of their plans, which was one of the main reasons I removed all of us from the ball early.”
“Even if they convince him to stay in town, the minute they hear of our elevation in society, he will rush back to Jane’s side,” Elizabeth argued, silently fuming at the machinations of the supercilious sisters, and the arrogant Mr. Darcy.
“We must send word to Mr. Bingley, so he can return to Netherfield.”
Papa raised an eyebrow at Elizabeth’s impassioned plea, then with a heartfelt sigh, turned to his eldest.
“Is that what you want, Jane? A man who loves you for your title, or a man who would defy his friends and family to marry a poorly dowered gentleman’s daughter because he loves her just as she is.”
“I… I would want him to love me as myself, but we do not know for certain that he will not return. He may come back as promised to dine with us this Thursday.”
“For the sake of your heart, dearest Jane, I will put all plans to leave Hertfordshire on hold until the new year.”
“Papa, you still have not told me how large my dowry will be,” Lydia whined.
“I will not know exactly until the reading of the will, but given what I know of my cousin’s wealth, I imagine each of you could expect a minimum of ten thousand pounds.”
“Ten thousand pounds!” Mamma shrieked. “I shall go distracted.”
“Before you get carried away with the idea of this sudden influx of wealth, Mrs. Bennet, be advised your daughters will only receive their portion if your brother Gardiner and myself approve of their betrothed… or, failing that, when they have reached the age of five and twenty. They will receive nothing if they are ruined, or hare off to Scotland.”
“I want to be the first to marry,” Lydia pouted. “I don’t want to end up an old maid, like Jane.”
Another collective gasp resounded throughout the room.
“This brings me to the second part of this meeting, and that is about the lack of deportment I witnessed at the ball last night.”
A heavy silence fell over the room as Papa finished recounting the troubling behaviour he had observed, and the measures he had taken to address it. The quiet was broken when Lydia, her cheeks flushed crimson, leapt up from the couch.
“I shall not! I shall run away and elope with Lieutenant Denny or Captain Carter!” she cried, before storming from the room. Her footsteps pounded up the oak staircase, each step a thunderous declaration of her rage, ending with the violent slam of the bedchamber door.
Her fury stemmed from Papa’s grave pronouncement, delivered with uncharacteristic firmness, that not only were she and Kitty no longer permitted in society — no balls, no assemblies, no morning calls — but that he had also written to their uncle about suitable schools for both girls.
“Papa?” Elizabeth ventured, breaking the uncomfortable silence that hung over the remaining family members like a shroud.
“Yes, Lizzy?” he replied, removing his spectacles to pinch the bridge of his nose, suddenly appearing older than his years.
“What will become of our friends at Longbourn? And our tenants who rely upon us for their livelihoods?” she asked, her brow furrowed with concern.
“Longbourn will be divested of everything not specified in my great-grandfather’s original entail,” he said, replacing his glasses with deliberate care. “I intend to offer the Turners a lease of one pound per annum, asking only half of whatever profits the estate yields in return.”
Mamma began to sputter and fuss.
“You would give our tenants an annual income of nearly one thousand pounds? Why, that is beyond comprehension!”
“The Turners have proven themselves capable stewards these past seven years. Their industry shall only increase Longbourn’s yield, to our mutual advantage,” Papa replied with restrained patience.
“What of our friends?” Elizabeth pressed further, her dark eyes glittering with the same stubborn light that had characterized her since childhood.
“Sadly, they are rather attached to their own homes.” When Elizabeth expelled a breath of frustration, Papa relented. “You may certainly invite whomever you wish once we are properly established, though I suspect Bedfordshire’s rolling hills and ancient oaks will soon occupy your attention.”
Not quite satisfied with her father’s response, Elizabeth reclined in her seat, arms mulishly wrapped around her middle.
“What about Mr. Bingley?” Mamma interjected, her voice starting to rise to a particular pitch that signalled imminent hysteria. “How can Jane secure him from such a distance? With our daughter not before him, reminding him of her beauty, he may find another lady before Twelfth Night.”
“If he is that fickle, she is well rid of him.” At Mamma’s ensuing wail, Papa sought to calm his distraught wife.
“We shall remain through to next year, allowing ample opportunity for his return and courtship. In any case, Jane and Lizzy would benefit from time with the Gardiners in town, with its diversions and the opportunity to purchase a new wardrobe. Kitty and Lydia shall proceed to their schools after Christmas, and Mary…” He regarded his middle daughter with gentle consideration.
“Let us see how things proceed. I understand how much these changes might unsettle her.”
“You are so thoughtful, Mr. Bennet.” His wife paused. “Should I call you Lord Bennet, or Lord Rumley?”
“Lord Bennet is incorrect. You may call me by my title name, Lord Rumley, or merely ‘sir’ if you so choose. Now, please excuse me, I have pressing correspondence to attend to.”
Elizabeth closed the bedchamber door behind her and Jane with a soft click, muffling both Mamma’s high-pitched exclamations and Mary’s persistent, methodical scales on the piano.
With Kitty and Lydia sequestered in their own quarters, no doubt bemoaning their future separation from red-coated officers, and their father ensconced in his book-lined library after receiving yet another express letter, this one delivered by a gentleman bearing royal insignia on his scarlet coat, the sisters had found a moment of reprieve.
“So, Lady Jane, what think you of this latest extraordinary development?”