The Formidable Mrs. Mowbray
Agnes needs a change in scenery, but she wishes to exchange her past for a different present. When she meets a family of young girls in similar circumstances to what her own once were, she decides to use her very considerable life experiences to give them a better future. But first she must convince their parents to hire her.
Agnes Hayward, nee Gillingham, alias Alice Fortescue, now alias Mrs. Mowbray, had always loved math, though her present calculations were somewhat rudimentary. Her post-coach would travel about thirty miles today. If, as she expected, the coachman exchanged horses halfway, and rested his horses every four to five miles, then that would mean another stop in one mile. That was well because it was time to refresh her disguise. Even a person as skilled at stage paint as she required the occasional touchup.
At the moment Agnes looked ten years older, somewhat homely, and considerably careworn. The last was not so difficult to carry off because she was careworn. A baron and an earl had faced each other across a misty dawn morning because of her and now the earl was laid low and the baron was almost certainly in custody or soon to be. It was only a matter of time before her name was tied to the whole foolish mess. Men were so arrogant and idiotic in their foolish competitions! She had not wished anything to do with either, but they had never added that to their own accounting. No, she was just the Fabulous Alice Fortescue, all the rage as the best actress of her time! And what did that mean to these men? Nothing! It only meant that she was beautiful and they wanted her in their beds!
So now because of two nobles without nobility who took their drunken quarrel out onto the morning grass for a duel, Agnes had to flee once again!
It had not been the first time she had to flee. Agnes had been the intelligent and outspoken daughter of a minor country gentleman who love his horse races more than he loved his position or his family. Her desperate mother had wanted to marry and her sisters off to men from the highest circles, but all they had were their accomplishments and their charms, since their father had gambled away their dowries. And Agnes, like her sisters, had considerable charms. They had been known to the locals as the "jewels of Wessex" for a reason. There had been reason to hope for good matches.
That was until the day that Mr. Gillingham called Agnes into his office, where she found Sir Herbert Hayward, a rotund and grotesque man of at least forty years, who regarded her quite hungrily. On that horrible day sixteen year old Agnes was sold off as a bride to that foul, cruel, beast of a man. And her life became a living hell until he suffered an apoplexy and she ran far away.
At eighteen Agnes Hayward was certainly more beautiful, but much of the liveliness and joy of life which characterized her in earlier years was gone. Instead she was more worldly-wise, aware of the dangers surrounding her, and aware of what it might take to survive. Thankfully, she had taken the quarterly rent when she fled, so she was not without funds. Before she had to resort to selling herself in order to eat, she found a troupe of actors who could make use of her accomplishments.
For the next three years Agnes, now known as Alice Fortescue, sang, acted, and played stage music for this second-rate troupe. Of necessity she went to the troupe leader's bed, because to do otherwise would have ended her welcome, but at least he was not a cruel man like Hayward. Thankfully she was never pregnant. It seemed that her only pregnancy and a terrible miscarriage after one of her husband's drunken beatings had ended that possibility forever. There were moments of regret, but she had little desire to bring a child into this cruel world.
Agnes was one-and-twenty when the leader of a much larger and more successful troupe based out of Edinburgh asked her to join their company. He was a devilishly handsome man and a great actor, but his interests lay with the men of the company, not her, so for a while she was allowed to survive on her talents alone. This man, along with all of his troupe, were dedicated to their craft. Over the next two years they taught Agnes how to bring out each character she played, until her beauty, her singing voice, and natural talent began to win acclaim.
Along with this, her other training as a gentleman's daughter came into play. She had been taught to manage a gentleman's household, so she kept the books for the company. She had been taught languages, so she acted as translator when needed. And she had been taught superior penmanship, so she wrote the playbills, forged stellar reviews of past performances, and occasionally penned false letters promoting her troupe to other venues. At first she balked at this, but over time it was just a part of her life.
Unfortunately, the better the theater, the wealthier the patrons. When she played small stages it was relatively easy for Agnes to turn away those men who wanted, even demanded her private attentions. But when the sons of dukes and earls and barons, and sometimes the dukes and earls and barons themselves began to approach her, Agnes learned that her reprieve had been only temporary. And when her company relocated to London, matters became much worse. Men of power grow used to getting whatever they want, regardless of the feelings of others.
Which was how, at the age of five-and-twenty Agnes, alias Alice Fortescue, found herself fleeing the possible persecution of two noble families because their sons were stupid and decided to fight a duel over her when she did not like either man!
Fifteen year old Jane Bennet and her thirteen (soon to be fourteen) year old sister Elizabeth never traveled by post, but when their uncle's coach suffered a broken wheel halfway through their return home, they were left with little choice. It was a relief, then, when they learned that the only other passenger at the moment was a matronly lady of middle years.
The woman, who appeared startled at the company for a moment, quickly recovered and identified herself as Mrs. Agnes Mowbray, recently widowed and just out of mourning. Further talk informed them that she had once been a governess, but then had married late only to be widowed.
Agnes was quite surprised when the younger girl sighed and said, "I wish we had a governess." She was expecting the older girl to demur, but instead she agreed. In her experience no girl wished for a governess. Further conversation revealed the cause of their unusual longing: They were gentleman's daughters, two of five sisters, and their sisters were in desperate need of guidance. For themselves the two girls wished for guidance in accomplishments and in navigating society. For their sisters they wished for a firmer hand. Their mother, the daughter of a tradesman, was too flighty and nervous to do well and their father was uninvolved. Of course the two genteel girls were not quite so blunt in how they stated all of this, but Agnes understood.
She took a good long look at her fellow passengers again. She had been struck with the elder girl's beauty from the moment they climbed into the coach. Blond with clear blue eyes, Jane Bennet was the epitome of Anglo-Saxon beauty. Elizabeth Bennet was not her sister's equal in beauty... few women could be... but she was quite pretty with chestnut brown hair, a pixie face, and the most remarkable eyes which bespoke intelligence, mischief, and a love of life which made Agnes recall her younger years.
If nothing changes, these two lovely creatures may very well follow my own terrible path. They have beauty and gentility, but not the means to recommend themselves for good marriages. Oh dear!
Over the next two hours, with passengers climbing off and on, she could not help but see how the men who joined the coach looked the two girls up and down. Had she not been there, tucking the girls into her side of the carriage like a mother hen, the girls might not have been safe. It touched something in her that she had thought lost forever.
When the Bennet girls disembarked at St. Albans in order to take a different coach for the remainder of the journey, Agnes stepped off as well. And when she saw the girls safely on their ride, she took a room at the inn, had a bath, re-applied her stage-paint, and strolled through the park deep in thought.
On the following day Mrs. Agnes Mowbray presented herself at Longbourn as a potential governess. Mr. Bennet, a handsome gentleman in his forties, looked at the unexpected visitor, "I have not advertised for a governess, Mrs..."
"Mowbray. Agnes Mowbray. I am aware of this and I apologize for intruding, but after traveling with your two eldest daughters by coach yesterday morning I saw a way to meet two needs."
Mr. Bennet, aware that this was his cue to inquire further, asked, "And what might those be?"
"Your girls wish for a governess to polish them and make them ready to take on society."
Amused, Mr. Bennet prompted again, "That is one need. What is the second?"
"I do not wish to return north to Scotland to live off the questionable largess of my sister and her husband. My status as a widow came upon me quite unexpectedly and my savings will not allow me to live forever alone. As I have no wish and little chance of remarrying, I require a different solution. Prior to yesterday, I thought that would mean moving in with my sister's family and taking over responsibility for her children. Now I see before me a more attractive alternative. Your daughters were quite pleasant companions. It is my understanding that might not be the case with all of your daughters... but I was a successful governess before and can be again."
"What is undesirable about your sister's children?" Mr. Bennet asked with interest.
"Five boys... and all like their mother and father." She said this in such a dry fashion that Mr. Bennet had to chuckle. He quite liked this formidable creature.
"Mrs. Mowbray, I suspect that you would make an excellent governess indeed for all of my girls, but my wife has been less-than-receptive in the past to any suggestion of bringing a governess into our home."
"Unless I miss my guess, and I seldom do, your wife does not wish to bring a rival into her home: a rival for your interest or a rival for her authority or a rival for her daughter's affections. If I may, I will address all three issues."
"Please do," Mr. Bennet replied, leaning back.
"First, though I might have been a rival for the attentions of the master of a house in my first tenures as governess, you need only look at me to see that I am no rival now. Your daughters informed me that Mrs. Bennet is quite beautiful and I... am not." Of course Agnes did not mention that without her current disguise she turned heads throughout England.
"Second, I ran a small household of my own, but not an estate such as this. My first task will be to enlist Mrs. Bennet to take on that portion of the girls' educations. Have no fear, I am well able to be diplomatic with the lady of the house."
"I fully believe that you are. Do go on."
"And third, though I hope to gain the girls' attentions so that I may direct their learning, a governess is seldom if ever loved by her pupils. I shall be the strict, formidable teacher while their mother shall be the soft, caring matron."
"You have a point. I could present the matter in such a way. But from the way that my two eldest spoke of you, you have already earned two friends."
"That is because I have not yet handed back a test or made them practice an extra hour on the pianoforte, Mr. Bennet."
"A point."
"And if I may present my letters of recommendation, I think that you will have one more arrow in your sling for winning Mrs. Bennet over in this matter."
Thomas Bennet took the offered letters and asked, "And what would that arrow be?"
"Each of the girls that I taught married very well."
Mr. Bennet chuckled again, "I see that my daughters have spoken about their mother. Very well, Mrs. Mowbray. I shall read these and speak with my wife. Where are you staying?"
"At the inn in Meryton. Room four."
Mr. Bennet rose, "Excellent. I will let you know one way or the other by tomorrow noon."
By the next evening Agnes was installed at Longbourn as the governess. The first month was a careful dance with Mrs. Bennet, a dance her husband watched with amusement as Agnes skillfully managed his wife, even making the nervous woman her ally. In Francine Bennet's mind, Agnes Mowbray was there to see that her daughters made the very best marriages possible. By the second month the new member of the household was Mrs. Bennet's greatest confidant. And by the first year Mrs. Bennet's own behaviors had altered so much for the better that even her marriage with Mr. Bennet improved. Agnes, skilled stage actress, played her part to perfection.
As she predicted, there was some push-back from the two eldest. Jane had never been interested in music, but now the house boasted a harp and she was learning to play. Elizabeth loved music and playing, but lacked discipline. Agnes provided that discipline until her charge saw the benefits of providing her own. Both young ladies were made to learn French, Italian, Spanish, and German. Both girls learned to sing quite beautifully.
Mary, the most pedantic, was made to see the beauty of the world and how art contributed to both science and religion. She had the discipline to study, but not the natural understanding of he next-eldest sister. Of all of the girls, she soaked up Mrs. Mowbray's dedicated attention the most and gained the most from it.
Kitty was difficult at first, having always believed herself to be stupid. Agnes showed her the falsity of this perception and, more than anything else, taught her two believe in herself and strive for what she wanted. Agnes was no artist, but she gave the girl a start and pressed successfully for drawing and painting masters.
Lydia fought tooth and nail, but Agnes had anticipated this struggle. Once again, she made the woman who spoiled the child in the first place into her greatest ally, "Mrs. Bennet, your dear Lydia is beautiful like your Jane and intelligent like your Elizabeth. She could rise further than any of her sisters and marry very well indeed. But in the Ton a young woman who is not self-disciplined and highly accomplished is quicky cast out. When the patronesses of Almack's came to Hayward House to evaluate Miss Candice, they watched her every action and word. My student got a voucher, but on that same day another girl, the daughter of an EARL, was refused because she could not speak a language! It was a tragedy! The Earl had to marry her off to a factory owner!"
Mr. Bennet, who had taken to leaving his door cracked so that he could listen in, snorted softly into his port. After a few months he had seen this woman act like a chameleon, changing her behaviors and mannerisms for whatever the occasion called for. He suspected there was more to the woman than she wished to show. For example, when nobody was watching (so far as she knew), she moved with remarkable grace. But whoever she truly was, if she could get his wife to discipline her spoiled youngest child, then he did not care. Actually, he found the entire drama quite entertaining!
Lydia did learn. In fact now that she could not hide her intelligence she outstripped most of her sisters in every area... which was thanks to Agnes using Lydia's naturally competitive nature in her favor. Of particular note was Lydia's singing voice. Where her earlier screeching made people wince, her singing made her listeners close their eyes in appreciation.
Years passed. The girls grew in beauty, grace, and accomplishments. Mrs. Bennet grew, somewhat, in wisdom and gentility. Even Lydia, who fought the longest against learning, became recognized as one of the true ladies among her peers. She was still as full of energy as before, but now it was under control and added to her attractions rather than detracting from them.
For the eldest girls Agnes became more of a companion than a governess. To Jane and Elizabeth she had become a true friend and advisor. To Mary she was almost the mother that her own mother had never been. The same was true of Kitty, though Mrs. Bennet had taken more of a hand in her life when she saw her amazing talent for portraiture.
Lydia, like a pendulum, had swung from hate to love. Eventually she believed that Agnes might have been the best thing which ever happened to her, but she was intelligent enough to hide her affections from her mother, lest jealousy lead to the woman being sent away.
Even Mr. Bennet had improved. He claimed that he now spent more time out of his study than in it because his family was more peaceful. He knew that Agnes had subtly admonished and perhaps even manipulated him into becoming the father and husband he always should have been. One result of the amicability between husband and wife was also the reason that the house was not as peaceful as Thomas claimed: they had a son! Both husband and wife had thought her childbearing days were over, but when his visits commenced and increased, so did her belly. Now Edward Thomas Bennet, at three years old, regularly destroyed any peace the family enjoyed with his happy, boundless energy.
With the entail was no longer a concern, Mr. Bennet had even devoted himself to improving Longbourn's output and his daughters' dowries. The Bennets were a much happier family.
On the night of the September Assembly in Meryton, in the Year of Our Lord Eighteen and Eleven, a very different Bennet family attended than might have in other circumstances. Mr. Bennet attended with his wife and four eldest daughters. Mrs. Bennet, although excited, conducted herself with decorum and grace. And the Bennet girls, reputed to be the "Jewels of Hertfordshire," created a very favorable impression on those who were willing to be impressed.
Mr. Bingley met and immediately fell in love with Jane Bennet.
Caroline Bingley and Mrs. Hurst dismissed all and sundry as country barbarians.
Mr. Hurst thought the food good but the wine only passable.
Mr. Darcy, in a foul mood when he arrived, was impressed enough with the second Bennet daughter that he asked for a single dance. It should be noted here that he thought he was giving the girl consequence and that he had absolutely no intention of paying her any further attention... but at least he did not insult her.
Darcy being Darcy, he took a slow, meandering, and often irritating road towards self-awareness. His hot and cold running interest served to make Elizabeth almost as angry as she might have been had he insulted her and refused to dance.
Thankfully Elizabeth had an experienced and wise confidant in Agnes Mowbray. She helped to calm the girl down, helped her to see the good man beyond the mask, and helped Elizabeth to curb her tongue enough that no bridges were burned. And when another handsome young man swept into the neighborhood and immediately began spreading tales, it was Agnes who helped Elizabeth to see beyond that handsome face to see the foul heart within. It was also Agnes who used her considerable skills in manipulation to get the leaders of the community, including Mr. Bennet, to take action to protect their neighborhood from the bounder.
Mr. Collins, though removed from being the heir presumptive, still arrived on Longbourn's doorstep in want of a wife. Finding no traction at Longbourn, he did find a wife at Lucas Lodge.
And when Mr. Darcy proposed at the Hunsford parsonage during Elizabeth's visit to Kent, a more circumspect and wiser young lady expressed her reasons for hesitating in a kinder, gentler fashion. The result: Mr. Darcy, chagrined but hopeful, corrected his ways and won the heart of his fair lady. He also corrected his interference with his friend, resulting in a second marriage.
It would be another five years before the last Bennet girl married. By then Mrs. Mowbray was serving as Eddie's governess and was still an indispensable person to Mrs. Bennet.
A widower, Mr. Barrington, purchased Netherfield Park in 1817, a handsome, good and very handsome man of fifty years old. Somehow the widow and governess, Mrs. Mowbray, seemed to get younger and less homely until the people in the area and even the Bennets remarked on the transformation. Mr. Barrington also noticed and took considerable interest in the governess at Longbourn.
Time moved and eventually Mrs. Mowbray became Mrs. Barrington. Marriage must have suited her quite well, because she continued to grow more beautiful until people began to wonder how anyone (but not them, of course) could have ever considered her to be homely.
Mr. Bennet chuckled at all of this. He had always had a keep eye for detail and a love of the theater. Though she would not have remembered him, he had met Fabulous Alice Fortescue after one particularly memorable performance while he was visiting London. Just like his own daughter Elizabeth, the actress had unique and lively eyes... the same eyes which had looked with care upon his own children for well over a decade. He had never been quite certain until the impostor began to grow younger.
Rather than be angry, Thomas Bennet considered the farce to be the greatest performance of the woman's career, with him and his family as the beneficiaries. He could not have seen better at a theater.
As for Mrs. Francine Bennet, she continued to regard Mrs. Mowbray, now Mrs. Barrington, as her dearest friend for all of the years of her life.
Each of the Bennet children made it a point to visit with their beloved former governess whenever they ventured back to their childhood home. Agnes never gave birth to a child, but she had no cause to repine. She had six lovely children who could not have been more dear had they come from her womb.