An Ill Wind
The saying goes, 'Tis an ill wind that blows no good.' In the case or Meryton and its surrounding farms and estates, it was an ill wind indeed that swept in during the year 1799, but for some there was good to be found again over time.
Longbourn, 1799
Thomas Bennet struggled into consciousness, still weak from the plague of sickness which had swept through Hertfordshire and especially Meryton over the past month... or was it longer. For the last few days Mr. Jones, the apothecary, had been the one who attended him. That meant either that Doctor Cumberland had much worse cases to attend to or that he had succumbed to the dread illness himself. Since his own manservant and housekeeper had been avoiding providing details, he knew that the news was bad.
Today he felt well enough that he would demand answers, no matter how terrible the truth might be. It was Jones, not Hill, who came in to check on him. "Allen, you and my staff have tried to hide the truth from me for long enough. Out with it. Who have I lost and what of the community as a whole?"
Jones was a younger man, but he seemed to have aged a decade since this all began. He regarded his friend sadly, "Your wife is gone, as are three of your daughters. Only Miss Elizabeth and Miss Mary remain."
It was like a hammer blow. Thomas closed his eyes and forced himself to breath before asking, "Where are Lizzy and Mary?"
"Mr. Gardiner collected them and took them to London. They are currently under the care of his new bride until you are recovered."
"Who else?"
"Your sister Angela Phillips. Doctor Cumberland and Nurse Wellford. Mayor and Mrs. Lucas, along with their sons John and Ben and their daughter Maria. Mr. and Mrs. Purvis. Mrs. Long and Miss Stephanie..." Mr. Jones had to pause to quell his own grief with that name. He had asked to court her but had been denied by her father since his status was too lowly.
He continued, listing off the names of the gentry and then the tenants. There were more names from Meryton who were familiar to Thomas, but by then he was too numb to feel more emotion.
"And the Netherfield party?" Netherfield was a seldom used summer residence of Sir Richard Powell. Sadly, this year he had chosen to visit his estate, bringing ten guests and the epidemic. The deadly strain of influenza had first appeared among the guests at Netherfield and then spread rapidly through the entire community.
"Powell is dead, as are seven of his ten guests and many of the servants."
"So many dead. How will we recover?"
"This strain seems to have reached as far south as Kent and as far north as Nottinghamshire and Derbyshire. Most travel has been restricted, so I have no idea of the total numbers. I was in Wessex when a similar outbreak happened there years ago. Those who survive have to move on, though the scars linger for many years. You must survive because your daughters and your tenants need you. I must survive because I am the only medical person left."
Thomas nodded, "I am sorry to hear about Miss Stephanie..." Jones nodded jerkily and Thomas continued, "I must get well so that I can help where I can. As you say, my daughters need me."
A month later Mr. Bennet was recovered enough to retrieve his daughters from London. He also surprised one and all when he threw himself into the task of helping the entire community to recover. He worked with others to see to the care of widows and orphans. He helped Mister Phillips by acting as executor for several estates. He even sent notices inviting young men and women in need of a start to the community. There were many tenant farms and town shops abandoned due to deaths. When there were no identifiable heirs, steps were taken to fill the empty roles with new blood from elsewhere. It was a long and arduous job, but by the new year Meryton was viable again.
Longbourn Estate, 1800
"You must do it, Thomas," Mr. Phillips, his brother-in-law and friend insisted. Backing him up was Mr. Jones, Mr. Goulding, and the new owner of the mercantile, Mr. Price. "You are the ranking member of this community. It would be an insult to the King for anyone else to make the attempt."
Thomas Bennet wanted to protest, but he knew that these men were right. So many had died in the previous year and recovery had been slow. Unable to ignore the dire need for leadership, he had set his books aside and stepped up to help restore order. Now King George would be paying a visit to Meryton and there had to be somebody of rank to greet him. Since the former mayor, William Lucas, was among the dead and since there were no nobles hereabouts, the duty fell on Mr. Bennet. "Very well then. I shall make a speech to welcome His and Her Majesties. We all know that he is making this grand tour of the counties to reassure his countrymen that he is hale and hearty... and not stark raving mad."
Simon Phillips blanched, as did the others, "Thomas, we all know that you love satire, but please do not even think those words again... at least until after Their Majesties are far away from Meryton."
Thomas Bennet wrote his speech, calling upon his early years as a Fellow at Cambridge, his love of history and books, and his own intelligence to craft a speech worthy of the occasion. With his daughters Elizabeth and Mary sitting in the audience he was determined to give a good impression... and he most certainly did. So much so that Their Majesties lingered for an hour longer than they had scheduled to ask about the community, their recovery, and specifically about Mr. Bennet.
Six months after his speech, Mr. Bennet received a summons to bring himself and his two lovely daughters to St. James Court. When Thomas received the summons, there was speculation that he might be knighted. The idea that he would be knighted for giving a speech seemed ludicrous, but not even he would defy the monarch by refusing. After all, he had heard that his monarch was handing knighthoods out like candy.
When his turn came to be presented, he walked in flanked between his two surviving daughters. Elizabeth was nine and Mary seven. They did not know what to think of this grand palace or the two great personages seated side-by-side on the throne. The equerry intoned, "Your Royal Majesties, Mister Thomas Bennet and his daughters, Miss Elizabeth Bennet and Miss Mary Bennet." The little family bowed and curtsied deeply, rising to see the smiles of the Queen. She has a soft spot in her heart for little girls and their Aunt Gardiner had done much to make them look pretty for this meeting.
Thomas tried not to study his monarch too closely. Word was that he had suffered a small bout of illness since his visit, but he seemed sound of mind at the moment. It was the Queen who spoke, however, leading Thomas to suspect that all was still not well, "Mister Bennet, after listening to your speech in your quaint little town, We made inquiries about all that has been done to restore the area. Your name featured prominently in all of the tales of the work of restoration. As the highest ranking gentleman in the area, this was to be expected, of course. But what We expect is not always what We see to be true. We are please that this was not the case in your community. We have chosen, therefore, to reward you for your services."
Another nobleman stepped up holding a scroll, "Let it be known on this day the tenth of October in the year of Our Lord eighteen-hundred that Mr. Thomas Bennet is invested as Baron Longbourn in recognition of his great service to his community and to His Royal Majesty, King George III. In keeping with his rank and privileges, we do bequeath the property formerly known as Netherfield Park, which was forfeited to the Crown for lack of heirs proper. This shall be added to the whole and bound to the Barony of Longbourn."
Thomas was stunned and could only bow out of the room with his daughters now that their audience was over. It was only when he met with the same Lord to see to the legal details that he remembered a concern, "Lord Piersall, there is a complication to all of this. Longbourn is subject to an entail. Unless I have a son, it will go to a distant cousin. I would hate to see my title go to that man."
Piersall shook his head, "We looked into the matter. Your title descends from you, so only the heirs of your blood may inherit it. Should you fail to have a son, the first son from among your daughters will be the next Baron Longbourn. Netherfield is attached to your title, so it is also exempt. Only your first property is under the entail. The Mr. Collins you speak of was only the heir-presumptive. You are still a young man. If you remarry and have a son, then he shall inherit."
For the first time since the initial shock Baron Longbourn smiled widely. "I am pleased to hear that I have not made Collins the next baron... and as to remarrying, I will give it serious thought. Thank you."
Lord Piersall returned the smile. He had been the one to conduct the investigation and was not favorably impressed with what he learned about Godfrey Collins or his son, " As His Majesty's Lord of Patents, I will provide you with all of the legal documents needed to explain all that I have just told you."
Meryton Assembly, 1811
"I am intrigued, Mr. Darcy," the handsome older man said with cold, amused eyes and a satirical smile, "Exactly what 'consequence' do you imagine that you, a mere gentleman, could lend to my daughter, the "Honorable" Miss Elizabeth Bennet, by dancing with her? You must be very grand indeed."
Both Fitzwilliam Darcy and Charles Bingley paled, one at the realization that he had just offended a peer, the other because he knew who he was leasing Netherfield Park from.
Before they could speak, the lady in question laughingly cajoled, "Do not trouble yourself, Papa. I made the grave mistake of sitting out a set to rest my feet, not realizing that my missing two dances would set me apart as a wallflower when our distinguished visitor here has only danced two dances, though gentlemen are scarce and there are many young women here in want of a partner. So long as my own dear father still thinks me 'handsome enough to tempt him into a dance', I shall not repine."
The Baron, taking his daughter's hint, led her out to dance the second dance of the set, leaving Bingley to glare at Darcy, "That, sir, was not well done. You have just insulted Baron Longbourn, my landlord and a key leader in this community. And for your information, the reason that gentleman are sparse here tonight is that an outbreak of influenza more than a decade ago almost wiped out this community and many of those young men who survived or who now call this home are serving on the peninsula, fighting the French."
Darcy groaned, "I have well and truly stepped in it this time. I apologize to you, Bingley, and I will issue a proper apology to the baron and his daughter."
-oOo-
The Longbourn of 1811 was vastly different than the manor was at the turn of the century. Using funds from both his Longbourn and Netherfield properties, the Baron had commissioned a major remodeling of the manse in 1806, partially in celebration of the birth of his son and heir. While attending an obligatory Parliament session concerning Napoleon's continuing depredations, Thomas had been invited to dine with the Duke of _. While there he met the elderly man's youngest daughter, the recently widowed Lady Margery.
They fell in love over the weeks of the Special Council, mostly discussing books whiled taking long walks together. When both Elizabeth and Mary embraced the pretty lady with enthusiasm, Thomas was lost. They married in the winter and she gave Thomas a son in the fall. Now she was gravid with another child and could not be more beautiful in the Baron's eyes.
Fitzwilliam Darcy was already agitated when he presented himself at Longbourn. It was not Pemberley, but it was a very fine home on a large and prosperous estate. He was chagrined that he insulted anyone, much less the daughter of a prominent baron. Darcy was even more so when he saw Lady Marjorie, who was a distant cousin. He had heard that the Duke's youngest had remarried, but he never learned the details.
Lord Longbourn did not seem surprised to see Darcy, but he escorted the man into his study rather than allow the rude man to visit with his wife. "So, Mr. Darcy, you wished to see me. What do you have to say for yourself?"
"That I am the veriest fool and that I am deeply sorry for my words, my actions, and my attitude. It is no excuse, but my family has only recently suffered a terrible betrayal and I have let my anger fester for too long. My friends and family have tried to settle my temper, but I would not listen. Will you allow me to speak with Miss Bennet to tender my apologies?"
Another voice from behind the pair answered, "And what brought about such a temper, Mr. Darcy?"
Darcy wheeled to find Miss Bennet comfortably seated in a window corner, reading a volume of what appeared to be Shakespeare. He felt mortified, then angry for being the object of a joke, and then fascinated with the image of her all at once. She raised an eyebrow, clearly waiting for an answer. His first response was, " A family matter." Then he cursed himself for ever bringing the matter up because now he could not put this woman off so easily,
"A scheme involving someone very dear to me. A person who has received much from my family decided that it was not enough. He targeted a young lady with the hopes of getting his hands on her dowry. When she learned the truth, she was devastated. She was always shy. Now she is withdrawn and broken..." Darcy flinched and shook his head, "Forgive me, I had not meant to give such personal information."
He turned toward the door but Miss Bennet's voice stopped him, "Mr. Darcy?"
Darcy stopped, expelled a breath, and turned, "Yes?"
"Thank you for trusting me... both my father and me... enough to address such personal issues. You came here to apologize. I accept your apology and hope that the young lady will recover soon."
Darcy looked into those remarkable eyes and could only nod in appreciation for her sincere concern.
-oOo-
Netherfield Park, 1811
"Did you see her dress?" Caroline Bingley sneered, "It was six inches deep in mud!"
"I know! What manner of minor nobility goes around in such a manner?"
"Of whom are you speaking, Sisters," Charles Bingley asked as he stepped in the room.
"The Honorable Miss Bennet! We invited her to have tea with us and she arrived with her dress six inches deep in mud! And her supposed to be nobility! It just proves that you can give a country nobody's father a title, but that does not make her noble."
The ladies jumped again as another voice, this one deeper and notably angry, spoke up, "What it proves, Miss Bingley, is that some ladies possess the nobility of heart that others never will, no matter how large their dowries, what finishing school they attended, or who they think they are in the grand scheme of things. I just spoke with one of your groomsman, Charles. It seems that on the way over here in her coach, Miss Bennet saw one of your tenant families on the road from Meryton, trying to outpace the rain. Miss Bennet had her man stop the carriage, then she stepped out into the pouring rain and mud to help the parents lift their children into her coach. That is the reason she was six inches deep in mud."
Caroline Bingley was never the wisest woman and hearing praise from her Mr. Darcy for her greatest rival made her even more foolish, "I heard that the only reason that Mr. Bennet was made into a baron was because he stuck his nose into everybody's business after the epidemic. The man's wife, Miss Bennet's mother, had a sister married to the local solicitor and a brother in-trade, living in Cheapside! And Miss Bennet's sister, Miss Mary I believe, wed herself to a parson!"
Charles who spoke up before Darcy could, "Caroline, how is it that you constantly forget that our father, a good and respectable man, was in-trade and that every farthing in your dowry and my fortune come from our father's hard work IN-TRADE."
While Caroline sputtered, Darcy added, "And Miss Bingley, I do not know where you got your skewed interpretation of the Baron's deeds... or if you possibly invented it yourself, but you should know that the King and Queen themselves launched an examination of his actions and only then did they choose to invest him with his barony. If you dispute the Bennet's right to their elevation, perhaps you should address your concerns to the Crown. I am sure that they will find all of your protests fascinating. Charles, shall we play a game of billiards?"
He turned away and then paused, "Oh, and to correct another skewed bit of information, the former Miss Mary Bennet is the wife of BishopAllworthy, the second son of the Earl of _."
Charles looked at his sisters with disgust and replied, "Certainly, Darcy. And this time I intend to win."
"The ambition to improve oneself is a good thing, Bingley. Dare to dream."
Longbourn Barony, 1812
"You can be at no loss, Miss Bennet, to understand the reason of my journey hither. Your own heart, your own conscience, must tell you why I come."
Elizabeth looked with unaffected astonishment.
"You are mistaken, Madam. I have not been at all able to account for the honor of meeting you or account for your reasons for journeying here."
"Miss Bennet, you ought to know, that I am not to be trifled with. But however insincere you may choose to be, you shall not find me so. My character has ever been celebrated for its sincerity and frankness, and in a cause of such moment as this, I shall certainly not depart from it. A report of a most alarming nature reached me two days ago. I was told that not only was your sister was most advantageously married above her sphere, but that you would, in all likelihood, be soon afterwards united to my nephew, my own nephew, Mr. Darcy. Though I know it must be a scandalous falsehood, though I would not injure him so much as to suppose the truth of it possible, I instantly resolved on setting off for this place, that I might make my sentiments known to you."
"My sister did marry very well: she met a good, honest man who did not allow the exalted status of his father's title to make him arrogant or haughty towards his fellow man... or woman. And as our father is a Baron and he a second son, I would not say that she married above her sphere. Her father-in-law certainly encouraged their match. As to this rumor concerning your nephew, if you believed it impossible to be true," said Elizabeth, coloring with astonishment and disdain, "I wonder you took the trouble of coming so far. What could your ladyship propose by it?"
"At once to insist upon having such a report universally contradicted."
"Your coming to Longbourn, to see me and my family," said Elizabeth coolly, "will be rather a confirmation of it; if, indeed, such a report is in existence."
"If! Do you then pretend to be ignorant of it? Has it not been industriously circulated by yourselves? Do you not know that such a report is spread abroad?"
"I never heard that it was. Until today I have never met you and I know of nobody in this community who claims that... honor. So I am at a loss as to how you might have heard of such a rumor."
"A 'concerned friend' of my nephew wrote to me to alert me of this foul rumor. And can you likewise declare, that there is no foundation for it?"
"I do not pretend to possess equal frankness with your ladyship. You may ask questions which I shall not choose to answer."
"This is not to be borne! Miss Bennet, I insist on being satisfied. Has he, has my nephew, made you an offer of marriage?"
"Your ladyship has declared it to be impossible."
"It ought to be so; it must be so, while he retains the use of his reason. But your arts and allurements may, in a moment of infatuation, have made him forget what he owes to himself and to all his family. You may have drawn him in."
"If I have, I shall be the last person to confess it."
"Do you know who I am? I have not been accustomed to such language as this. I am almost the nearest relation he has in the world, and am entitled to know all his dearest concerns."
"But you are not entitled to know mine; nor will such behavior as this, ever induce me to be explicit."
"Let me be rightly understood. This match, to which you have the presumption to aspire, can never take place. No, never. Mr. Darcy is engaged to my daughter. Now what have you to say?"
"Only this; that if he is so, you can have no reason to suppose he will make an offer to me."
Lady Catherine hesitated for a moment, and then replied:
"The engagement between them is of a peculiar kind. From their infancy, they have been intended for each other. It was the favorite wish of his mother..."
"Actually," Mr. Darcy's deep voice interrupted, "I have a letter signed by both my mother and father which very specifically shows that statement to be a falsehood, Aunt."
"That is not true, Nephew! While you were in your cradles we planned the union: and now, at the moment when the wishes of both sisters would be accomplished in your marriage, to be prevented by a young woman of inferior birth, of no importance in the world, and wholly unallied to the family! Do you pay no regard to the wishes of your friends? To your tacit engagement with my Anne? Are you lost to every feeling of propriety and delicacy that you would throw Anne off for this...?
"Stop there!" Darcy demanded, Miss Elizabeth Bennet is the daughter of a baron, a baron elevated to that position by the hand of His Majesty. Have you forgotten how our branch of the Fitzwilliams arrived at their title, Aunt. Or how your husband attained his baronetcy for that matter?"
"Lies! Those are ridiculous lies told by jealous rivals!"
"And yet you spew forth your own lies now. My mother never schemed for a match with my cousin. We are four years apart, so there could have been no cradle match. And my father very clearly abhorred such an idea."
"Tell me once for all, are you engaged to Miss Bennet?"
Darcy turned his eyes to Elizabeth and then back to his aunt. "I am not."
Lady Catherine was pleased. "And will you promise me, never to enter into such an engagement?"
"I will make no promise of the kind." Darcy turned once again to face Elizabeth, "There is nothing I desire more than to convince Miss Elizabeth Bennet to look past my previous behaviors and attitudes and to allow me to show her my heart. If she would ever give her heart to me then I would cherish it above all else and devote myself to living worthy of her."
Lady Catherine was sputtering and tamping her cane on the ground to demand attention, but Elizabeth ignored her as she replied, "I forgave any offense on the very next day. I told you as much at the time, Mr. Darcy. And you have had my heart for months already. All that was wanting was for you to ask the right question."
Lady Catherine was gasping now, desperate to intervene but unable to find enough breath for words as her nephew knelt before the much shorter Elizabeth, "Please allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you, Elizabeth. Will you make me the happiest of men and become my wife?"
Neither of them even looked toward Lady Catherine as she fainted and fell to the dirt. Elizabeth's hand reached out to touch Darcy's strong jaw, "I can think of no greater joy than in becoming your wife." Darcy stood up, sweeping Elizabeth into his arms and kissed her soundly. It was only after he set her down that the couple became aware of Lady Catherine's prone form in the dirt.
Servants were sent for. Lady Catherine was picked up and carried inside and Mr. Jones was sent for. When it was decided that it was merely a faint, smelling salts were applied. Darcy was not a cruel person by nature, but he could not resist telling his aunt, "I must thank you, Lady Catherine. Without your interference I might have taken another month to finally work up the courage to propose to my Elizabeth. I would say that you could be the first to congratulate us, but that honor belongs to the baron, then his wife, and Mr. Jones the apothecary, and then Mr. Goulding dropped by, and then..."
Lady Catherine screamed in frustrated rage. Thankfully she was deemed well enough to be loaded back into her coach for the journey home.
Oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
AN: I decided that thirty-five chapters was enough for the first installment of "It might have all been different. So here is the first chapter of IMHABD II. I hope that you continue to enjoy my short stories from a twisted mind.
