Chapter 4 #4
“Mama, please tell Lydia to behave herself,” Elizabeth said as discreetly as she could.
“Lizzy, your sister was only teasing,” Mrs Bennet replied, unconcerned by who might overhear.
She disliked Elizabeth's constant attempts to correct Lydia's rather bold remarks.
Her youngest daughter was such a lively, high-spirited girl, and she could not understand why everyone seemed so determined to restrain her.
Eleanor was astounded by her younger niece's vulgarity and how her older sisters tried to correct her. On the other hand, Fanny supported her in everything, and her father seemed amused by her lack of manners.
"My brother-in-law is a very important gentleman, and my husband adored his family. It would not look good if I did that."
"I do not think he is that important if he does not have a home in London," Mrs Bennet said as Lydia and Kitty supported their mother's opinion.
"My brother-in-law, Lord Westcliff, is an important man. My husband bought the house where he lives for him and his family," explained Eleanor.
"Is your brother-in-law also a baron?" asked Mrs Bennet.
"No, he is an Earl," Eleanor replied.
"Are you very rich, Aunt Eleanor?" Kitty asked sheepishly.
"Enough to support all of you to have a better life and a season in London," Eleanor replied with a smile.
Lydia and Kitty could scarcely contain their excitement.
Jane and Elizabeth thanked their aunt warmly for her thoughtfulness, while Mary remained silent, apparently undecided as to whether the news deserved approval.
Mrs Bennet was no less delighted, but catching sight of her husband's displeased expression, she prudently restrained her enthusiasm.
Mr Bennet was furious, but he knew how to keep his sister away. On her side, Mrs Bennet could not believe everything that was happening. Perhaps Eleanor could be the answer to all her prayers and the one who would save her and her daughters from living in the hedgerows.
After dinner, Eleanor chatted with her nieces for nearly an hour, speaking of her life in Canada, her late husband, and how happy she was to be reunited with her family.
After patiently answering countless questions—particularly from Lydia and Kitty—she excused herself, for she was very tired, and retired to her room.
That night, Eleanor had difficulty falling asleep, thinking about everything that had happened and especially analyzing each of her nieces.
Jane was the same one she had met at Netherfield, kind and sweet, but there was sadness in her eyes.
Mary was an enigma; she hardly expressed her emotions and spoke very little; she limited herself to observing.
Kitty seemed like an interesting girl when she did not get carried away by her younger sister.
But Lydia did not seem like the daughter of a gentleman; she had no manners at all, and her mother spoiled her.
Of all her nieces, Elizabeth was the one who most captured her attention.
She was undoubtedly intelligent, and there was something about her that seemed not quite to belong in that peculiar family.
'Tomorrow will be a new day to get to know my nieces better,' Eleanor thought until she finally fell asleep.
◆◆◆
General Marcus Sinclair longed to return home. The evening had lasted quite long enough, and he had endured more than enough of his brother's repetitive conversation.
He had attended the dinner only because Claire had asked him to accompany her. He disliked society in general and fashionable society in particular. Though his niece had never admitted it, he knew her interest lay with Colonel Fitzwilliam.
Claire was all he had left in the world, and he did not mind sacrificing an evening just to see her happy.
She alone had managed, on occasion, to draw him out of the misery in which he had lived for so many years. Only in her company did he feel, if only for a little while, that he was still alive.
More than once, he had wished for death, but he had long since concluded that death never came to those who desired it most.
The world called him a hero. He knew himself to be nothing more than a man who no longer feared dying.
“Brother, what do you think of Lady Samantha?” Lord Reginald Sinclair asked cheerfully. “It is quite evident that she regards you as a prospective husband. You cannot deny that she is attractive, well-connected, and of excellent family. Her uncle is a Duke, and her brother-in-law an Earl.”
“You know perfectly well that I have no interest in Lady Samantha—or in any other lady,” the General replied curtly. He finished the brandy remaining in his glass before pouring himself another.
“Do you not think it is time you stopped living in the past, Marcus?” Reginald asked with a sigh. “Very well, I shall leave you to your brandy. I know you would rather be alone. When you have finished, go home. Good night.”
“Good night.”
General Marcus Sinclair remained seated, slowly sipping his brandy.
No one seemed capable of understanding that he had died the very day his beloved Ella was lost to him.