CHAPTER FIVE
Friday April 10
I had a horrible dream last night. I was sinking, sinking, sinking, and something was pulling me down. It felt like I had lead weights on my feet. Everything was black, and all I could think of was Mama saying, "Oh, Kitty, you must go and meet the officers!" for some unknown reason. And everything was a mess. It was horrible and I woke up trembling. But now I am fine. Because . . .
He called! I am in raptures! He is the most handsome, wonderful, kind man that ever there was. He brought me the most beautiful flowers and said the most wonderful things. Lizzy knows how I feel; it is most obvious to everyone, especially to him, (he smiled and encouraged me!!!), and I feel like I am walking (or sitting on the sofa) on air.
I am sitting on the sofa in the drawing room at the moment, all wrapped up in warm things, but I am perfectly fine and Lizzy says that by tomorrow I will probably be fit as a fiddle. The doctor came to see me and agreed with her, and then Lord Gosford called, and then my other would-be admirers and friends. I feel sorry for Sir Thomas, Mr Montgomery and Mr Beaupays in a way, but am so happy that I find it hard to dwell on such things. There is nothing like loving a man and knowing (because I do know, it is obvious) that he returns your affection.
But as I was saying, tomorrow I will be quite well, and I plan to go and see Lady Posy, who nearly was the death of me, although I do not hold her to blame. She is a very sweet woman, even though she sometimes says things even I cannot approve of.
Saturday April 11
I didn't managed to see Lady Posy today, because Lord Gosford called! Lizzy invited him to stay for nuncheon, and then we strolled around the shrubbery together. It was heaven. This is what happened:
"Miss Bennet, I hope you do not feel any bad effects from your misadventure at Falconhurst Hill?"
"Oh no," I said.
"Are you sure?" he pressed, all anxiety. "When I think that it was I who suggested the scheme in the first place! How could I have forgiven myself if something worse had happened?"
"I have a very slight cold, sir, but nothing that is enough to keep me in bed, as you see." I found it very hard to answer him, as all I wanted to do was stare at him and nod rapturously at everything he said.
"Miss Bennet," he seized my hand, "please tell me, is there any person in Hertfordshire you cherish a tendre for?"
This, as you may imagine, left me quite breathless for a moment or so. I managed to recover myself tolerably well, however. "No, not at all."
He smiled that wicked smile of his. "Good, good."
"Why, sir?" I asked, smiling mischievously but trying to sound as if I didn't care at all.
He reached over and tapped the side of my nose. "You might find out one day."
I don't really like people tapping my nose like that in general, but as it was him, I made an exception to my rule and grinned back.
Now, if that isn't clear, diary, what is? He. Loves. Me. I am sure of it. Everything he says and does points to it.
Sunday April 12
At church today Mr Wakefield spoke on this text, and I am going to write it all out because I thought it beautiful : 'The Lord is merciful and gracious, slow to anger and plenteous in mercy. He will not always chide, nor will he keep his anger forever. He hath not dealt with us after our sins; nor rewarded us according to our iniquities. For as the heaven is high above the earth, so great is his mercy to those that fear him. As far as the east is from the west, so far hath he removed our transgressions from us.' That is part of the 103rd Psalm. Once again, he is unparalleled as a speaker – in my experience, anyway. He means every word he says, and although this is very embarrassing to admit, I was almost moved to tears at one point – I, Kitty Bennet! I think I will start reading my Bible more. I found that psalm to be very beautiful and I think it must be true, if it is in the Bible.
After the service, Lord Gosford came straight up to me, and we talked for a long time. He did not talk long to me today, he merely whispered, "I will not talk to you for long; last Sunday, the gossips had a field day."
I scowled, trying to look pretty at the same time. "Must we care for their opinion?"
"I suppose not," he said, "but after my commanding your time last Sunday, then my happening to save you from drowning, (which, by the by, has spread all over the village), half the village has had me married off to you in a sennight. Yes, you are wondering why that is a bad thing, as am I, but really, I like to be unpredictable sometimes."
I blushed and smiled and argued no more. I wonder when will he propose?
Monday April 13
Diary, I have been in tears all evening. My heart aches like it has never ached before – as far as I can remember. You will not believe what a low- down, wicked, cruel scoundrel Lord Gosford is, and I hate him.
Unfortunately I don't hate him; if I did I wouldn't be crying now, but after today, all love for him must fly. Am I trying to convince myself that I hate him rather than the opposite?
Lizzy has been sitting in my bedchamber with me these last few hours, stroking my hair and being extremely nice to me, and she is the best of sisters, but now she has left and I can have some time alone with you, which is a relief.
I went around to visit Lady Posy today, which I had planned to do on Friday but had not had time as Lord Gosford had come visiting. Her house is very nice - not large for a person of her importance, (she is the daughter of an earl) but very handsome and lavish. I knocked on the door and the butler answered; he told me Lady Posy was in the music room; he opened the doors. There was Lady Posy with Lord Gosford, they were kissing on the sofa, and Lord Gosford had no coat on.
I cannot explain what a shock I had. The butler stood there for a moment with his mouth wide open and then hurried off, and I stood there in the doorway, stiff and unable to move, waiting for them to notice I was there. Finally they saw me, and both faces went beetroot red and as Lord Gosford jumped up and started saying, "Kitty!" But I shook my head and ran from the room out to the carriage, and he ran after me, pulling on his coat, and he grabbed my hands and wouldn't let me go.
"Kitty, it was nothing! I promise you it will never happen again!"
"Leave me alone, sir," I spat.
"Look, you have to accept that even married men do these sort of things! Do you really imagine that men don't get bored?"
"Your argument is ridiculous and I beg you will let me go!"
"Kitty, you must listen to me! I think I am in love with you!"
I stared at him in disbelief. "I scorn your love! You just betrayed me! How can you even pretend you are in love with me?" The tears were beginning to fall now.
"It is true," he said. "Please, Kitty, let me come back to Pemberley with you. I will explain everything."
"There is no explaining to do," I said haughtily, hastily wiping aside a tear. "I wish you will never come round to Pemberley again. I never want to see you again. You are a dolt. I am too good for you, lord or not. You must have rats in your garret if you can possibly think that I would even consider marrying you now." I pulled myself away from him, and climbed into the carriage and the servant drove off quickly. I did not look at him, but out of the corner of my eye I could see him standing still in front of the house and then slowly going back in as I rounded the corner.
I burst into tears as soon as the house was out of sight, and when we arrived back at Pemberley I rushed to Lizzy and fell into her arms in floods of tears.
The most frustrating thing about the whole episode is that I am now beginning to think of all these clever and stinging things I could have said to him, and now I know that I really should have slapped him hard around the face and hopefully broken his nose.
I had a little obsession with him for but a few days. I don't think I could have been in love with him, for although the shock made me reel and cry at first, now I am relatively calm – I just know what I want more. I do hope I never have to look at him again, but if I do, I will manage it with equanimity and I will conquer the urge to run at him, push him into a well, lock him up inside and never let him out. He is not worth my contempt.
Oh, diary, I may not have been in love with him, but still the tears seem to come. It must be the shock. After I had convinced myself so perfectly that he was wonderful in every particular and that he was going to propose to me, too!
There is nothing to do but fall in love with another man now. And I have thought about it this whole afternoon and I believe it must be Sir Thomas. He would never be unfaithful to me. I will try and see if I can organise a meeting with him at some point tomorrow. It would be improper to visit him at his home, by myself, but maybe I can go into the village or something.
We'll just have to see what happens.
Wednesday April 15
I came across one Sir Thomas James Humphries in the woods today! I was taking a walk with one of the dogs who happens to have fallen in love with me. The first meeting was very unromantic, unhappily. Our eyes met across the clearing; he took a step towards me and I to him. Unfortunately, at this moment Fella, the dog, noticed his presence and took instant exception to someone who was obviously trying to approach his mistress. He barked and barked and growled and growled and bristled and bristled until I yelled to Sir Thomas, "I am so sorry, sir! Perhaps you should leave!"
"May I come and visit you at Pemberley soon?" he shouted, smiling.
"I would be very happy for you to!" I shrieked back above Fella's cacophony.
I was so happy that he was going to come visit me that when he was gone, I only gave Fella a half-hearted smack on the nose, and he thought I was patting him, and wagged his tail vigorously and issued a few warning barks in the direction Sir Thomas had backed. "Rascal!" I said affectionately, and we ran back to Pemberley.
When I arrived there, Mr Wakefield was there to visit, to ask after me, and to talk to Mr Darcy about a certain tenant. I was quite touched that he had done so, for he is a busy man. He is forever going around people's houses and helping them and performing funerals and important things like that. I had a long conversation with him about forgiveness.
"What do you think about people who formerly were the silliest girls in England and still are very silly?" I asked, concerned.
"Look," he said, smiling at me with a twinkle in his eye, "God forgives anyone anything. I should think that being silly is the least of sins. If you don't have fun you don't have joy, I say. If you are always excessively mature and proper, what is the point in being alive? Whenever I meet with my brother Charles, we have the silliest and best time in the world. Yes, I leave behind any seriousness when I see Charles. It is always a blessing to me, and whenever I feel at all sad or stretched or tired, I think of my enjoyable times with him and I feel much better immediately. It is amazing."
"Really?" I asked, smiling. "That is a very good philosophy. At least, I hope it is sound, because it seems very tempting."
"Of course, there are times for seriousness," he smiled. "Unfortunately. Silliness must be tempered with sound mind, or silliness can become an evil."
"I suppose that is true," I nodded, pondering. "Yes, it is true. If you are always silly and have great times without restraint or serious thought wherever you go, you will not know how to act when the bad times come."
He leaned forward, a surprised look on his face. "That is very profound, Miss Bennet. I could not have said it better. To be sure, how can you comfort people who are mourning while you are bouncing off the walls grinning with la joie de vivre?"
I laughed out loud. "Bouncing off the walls?"
"Maybe a little of an exaggeration," he smiled, "but you see what I mean."
We talked about lots more things, not all of a serious stamp like that – we talked about family and friends, (he was brought up in Yorkshire and his parents and sister Anne still live there, although Anne is engaged and will be married in July, but his brother Charles lives in London and his sister Juliana is married to a naval officer and is in Portugal at present), and we talked about fashion, (can you believe I discussed clothes with a clergyman?), and we talked about horses, (which he has a passion for), and many more things.
And then Sir Thomas walked in, and I, of course, was very excited, and Mr Wakefield looked a little uncomfortable and said his goodbyes, walking out to Mr Darcy's study. Thinking it over now, I suppose he realised that as a clergyman it may not be quite proper to be sitting in a room along with a young woman (Lizzy had left momentarily to get a certain colour thread from her embroidery box) and having an animated conversation with her. I wish there were not silly little society rules like that. It was the most innocent thing in the world – why, indeed, should it be a worry that a clergyman was alone with me? Can you imagine him trying to seduce me or take advantage of me?! It would be the most ridiculous thing in the world! Why, I am certain he has never thought of me in that way at all! And I am glad, for I am sure I would not like anyone to try to make violent love to me, or impose on me, or anything of the sort! He is the most proper clergyman in the world – even more so than Mr Collins, and lots more fun. He never flirts or chases or anything like that, but he is excessively kind and good-natured to me, even though I am an almost-reformed peacock. He even let me wear his coat when I fell into the lake, which I think was very very good of him, and he was obliged to be cold in the wind for some time.
But anyway, after he left, Sir Thomas sat down with me, and he was ever so agreeable and amusing. I am glad I chose him! I think he will be a very suitable husband. He told me about his other estates, which indicated that he trusts me and feels intimate with me, and he has several. His estate here is called Hawthorne Lodge.
"My estate here is not my largest," he said, "but it is my favourite because the house is very pretty and comfortable and I love the countryside, especially that surrounding Pemberley. You are very lucky to be staying here, Miss Bennet. I also spent holidays here, at Hawthorne Lodge, as a child, and loved every minute, so you could say that whenever I think of Hawthorne, pleasant connotations come to mind."
I smiled. He speaks so well, and so affectionately of his house that it is very pleasing. "What are your other estates or houses like, sir?" I asked. "Where are they?"
"Well, I have a house in London," he said, (here I mentally congratulated myself on choosing him – a grand house in London to go to in the Season is one of my ideas of heaven!), "on Grosvenor Square. I don't go every Season, and only go there briefly for business, so it is probably a waste of money, but I do like my house there and don't want to give it up –"he hesitated, "and I always thought that if I got married, "he looked at me with a little blush, "my wife would like to have a house there. Do you think she would?"
"I think she would adore it," I said firmly, trying not to blush.
"Good, good," he beamed – and to my horror, for a moment he reminded me of Sir William Lucas, walking around Lucas Lodge with that smirk on his face saying 'Good, good, capital, capital,' but fortunately the vision faded and he looked quite normal and handsome – certainly nothing like a red-faced squire. "I also have an estate in Cornwall that I do not visit very often; I am actually thinking of renting it out. It is not very handsome, although the grounds are good, but I am quite happy leaving the grounds to the management of my bailiff there. Yes, by Jove, I do think I will rent it out! There seems no point in keeping the house unoccupied. I will talk to my lawyer about advertising it as soon as I go home today." He beamed at me. "Thank you for the idea, Miss Bennet!"
"Me?" I asked, surprised and amused. "I didn't say anything about it!"
"It was your presence," he said. "It inspires me."
I laughed again. "Very well, sir, if you must think so. Do you have any more land?"
"Yes," he said, "I grew up on my estate in Herefordshire, which is very large and grand, and I have an estate in Wales, but I have been thinking about changing the ownership of that to my cousin for some time now. You see, I was the heir to my uncle on my mother's side, because his son married without the father's approval, and he cut off his son and changed his will to favour me – thus I gained the Wales estate. My uncle was not a very . . . amiable man, although I hesitate to speak ill of the dead, and I have often felt uncomfortable that I took the inheritance that should have been my cousin John's, when I was already perfectly well-off, while he has to scrounge and save every penny now. Yes, I think I should do so. It would make me feel terrible forever to hurt John and his wife, who I like very much, and even though in a worldly sense I should keep the estate for the benefit of any children I may have in the future," here he looked furtively at me again, (!), "I would not feel comfortable keeping it." He was studying my face closely to see my reaction. "What do you think?"
"I think it would be a very generous thing to do," I said truthfully, "but as you said, this may injure the prospects of your future heirs. It is a difficult decision, but then, you already have several estates, and it is not certain that you will have children, is it?" I do not particularly want screaming children running around the place, and so I suppose I would bear one son to please Sir Thomas and to provide him with an heir, but I draw the line at more.
"Oh, no, of course it is not certain," he agreed, "but I do think I may get married very soon. Which would present a new perspective to the question, would it not?" He looked at me slyly.
"I suppose so," I said, for it was all I could think of; my heart was beating wildly.
Elizabeth then came back into the room, and was surprised to see Sir Thomas there. "Good afternoon, Sir Thomas!" she said. "How do you do?"
He stood up, smiling, and kissed her hand. "Very well, ma'am. I trust you are well?"
"As always," she smiled back.
He is so very polite and genteel! I am very proud of him. He will be a wonderful husband to have.
Friday April 10
I had a horrible dream last night. I was sinking, sinking, sinking, and something was pulling me down. It felt like I had lead weights on my feet. Everything was black, and all I could think of was Mama saying, "Oh, Kitty, you must go and meet the officers!" for some unknown reason. And everything was a mess. It was horrible and I woke up trembling. But now I am fine. Because . . .
He called! I am in raptures! He is the most handsome, wonderful, kind man that ever there was. He brought me the most beautiful flowers and said the most wonderful things. Lizzy knows how I feel; it is most obvious to everyone, especially to him, (he smiled and encouraged me!!!), and I feel like I am walking (or sitting on the sofa) on air.
I am sitting on the sofa in the drawing room at the moment, all wrapped up in warm things, but I am perfectly fine and Lizzy says that by tomorrow I will probably be fit as a fiddle. The doctor came to see me and agreed with her, and then Lord Gosford called, and then my other would-be admirers and friends. I feel sorry for Sir Thomas, Mr Montgomery and Mr Beaupays in a way, but am so happy that I find it hard to dwell on such things. There is nothing like loving a man and knowing (because I do know, it is obvious) that he returns your affection.
But as I was saying, tomorrow I will be quite well, and I plan to go and see Lady Posy, who nearly was the death of me, although I do not hold her to blame. She is a very sweet woman, even though she sometimes says things even I cannot approve of.
Saturday April 11
I didn't managed to see Lady Posy today, because Lord Gosford called! Lizzy invited him to stay for nuncheon, and then we strolled around the shrubbery together. It was heaven. This is what happened:
"Miss Bennet, I hope you do not feel any bad effects from your misadventure at Falconhurst Hill?"
"Oh no," I said.
"Are you sure?" he pressed, all anxiety. "When I think that it was I who suggested the scheme in the first place! How could I have forgiven myself if something worse had happened?"
"I have a very slight cold, sir, but nothing that is enough to keep me in bed, as you see." I found it very hard to answer him, as all I wanted to do was stare at him and nod rapturously at everything he said.
"Miss Bennet," he seized my hand, "please tell me, is there any person in Hertfordshire you cherish a tendre for?"
This, as you may imagine, left me quite breathless for a moment or so. I managed to recover myself tolerably well, however. "No, not at all."
He smiled that wicked smile of his. "Good, good."
"Why, sir?" I asked, smiling mischievously but trying to sound as if I didn't care at all.
He reached over and tapped the side of my nose. "You might find out one day."
I don't really like people tapping my nose like that in general, but as it was him, I made an exception to my rule and grinned back.
Now, if that isn't clear, diary, what is? He. Loves. Me. I am sure of it. Everything he says and does points to it.
Sunday April 12
At church today Mr Wakefield spoke on this text, and I am going to write it all out because I thought it beautiful : 'The Lord is merciful and gracious, slow to anger and plenteous in mercy. He will not always chide, nor will he keep his anger forever. He hath not dealt with us after our sins; nor rewarded us according to our iniquities. For as the heaven is high above the earth, so great is his mercy to those that fear him. As far as the east is from the west, so far hath he removed our transgressions from us.' That is part of the 103rd Psalm. Once again, he is unparalleled as a speaker – in my experience, anyway. He means every word he says, and although this is very embarrassing to admit, I was almost moved to tears at one point – I, Kitty Bennet! I think I will start reading my Bible more. I found that psalm to be very beautiful and I think it must be true, if it is in the Bible.
After the service, Lord Gosford came straight up to me, and we talked for a long time. He did not talk long to me today, he merely whispered, "I will not talk to you for long; last Sunday, the gossips had a field day."
I scowled, trying to look pretty at the same time. "Must we care for their opinion?"
"I suppose not," he said, "but after my commanding your time last Sunday, then my happening to save you from drowning, (which, by the by, has spread all over the village), half the village has had me married off to you in a sennight. Yes, you are wondering why that is a bad thing, as am I, but really, I like to be unpredictable sometimes."
I blushed and smiled and argued no more. I wonder when will he propose?
Monday April 13
Diary, I have been in tears all evening. My heart aches like it has never ached before – as far as I can remember. You will not believe what a low- down, wicked, cruel scoundrel Lord Gosford is, and I hate him.
Unfortunately I don't hate him; if I did I wouldn't be crying now, but after today, all love for him must fly. Am I trying to convince myself that I hate him rather than the opposite?
Lizzy has been sitting in my bedchamber with me these last few hours, stroking my hair and being extremely nice to me, and she is the best of sisters, but now she has left and I can have some time alone with you, which is a relief.
I went around to visit Lady Posy today, which I had planned to do on Friday but had not had time as Lord Gosford had come visiting. Her house is very nice - not large for a person of her importance, (she is the daughter of an earl) but very handsome and lavish. I knocked on the door and the butler answered; he told me Lady Posy was in the music room; he opened the doors. There was Lady Posy with Lord Gosford, they were kissing on the sofa, and Lord Gosford had no coat on.
I cannot explain what a shock I had. The butler stood there for a moment with his mouth wide open and then hurried off, and I stood there in the doorway, stiff and unable to move, waiting for them to notice I was there. Finally they saw me, and both faces went beetroot red and as Lord Gosford jumped up and started saying, "Kitty!" But I shook my head and ran from the room out to the carriage, and he ran after me, pulling on his coat, and he grabbed my hands and wouldn't let me go.
"Kitty, it was nothing! I promise you it will never happen again!"
"Leave me alone, sir," I spat.
"Look, you have to accept that even married men do these sort of things! Do you really imagine that men don't get bored?"
"Your argument is ridiculous and I beg you will let me go!"
"Kitty, you must listen to me! I think I am in love with you!"
I stared at him in disbelief. "I scorn your love! You just betrayed me! How can you even pretend you are in love with me?" The tears were beginning to fall now.
"It is true," he said. "Please, Kitty, let me come back to Pemberley with you. I will explain everything."
"There is no explaining to do," I said haughtily, hastily wiping aside a tear. "I wish you will never come round to Pemberley again. I never want to see you again. You are a dolt. I am too good for you, lord or not. You must have rats in your garret if you can possibly think that I would even consider marrying you now." I pulled myself away from him, and climbed into the carriage and the servant drove off quickly. I did not look at him, but out of the corner of my eye I could see him standing still in front of the house and then slowly going back in as I rounded the corner.
I burst into tears as soon as the house was out of sight, and when we arrived back at Pemberley I rushed to Lizzy and fell into her arms in floods of tears.
The most frustrating thing about the whole episode is that I am now beginning to think of all these clever and stinging things I could have said to him, and now I know that I really should have slapped him hard around the face and hopefully broken his nose.
I had a little obsession with him for but a few days. I don't think I could have been in love with him, for although the shock made me reel and cry at first, now I am relatively calm – I just know what I want more. I do hope I never have to look at him again, but if I do, I will manage it with equanimity and I will conquer the urge to run at him, push him into a well, lock him up inside and never let him out. He is not worth my contempt.
Oh, diary, I may not have been in love with him, but still the tears seem to come. It must be the shock. After I had convinced myself so perfectly that he was wonderful in every particular and that he was going to propose to me, too!
There is nothing to do but fall in love with another man now. And I have thought about it this whole afternoon and I believe it must be Sir Thomas. He would never be unfaithful to me. I will try and see if I can organise a meeting with him at some point tomorrow. It would be improper to visit him at his home, by myself, but maybe I can go into the village or something.
We'll just have to see what happens.
Wednesday April 15
I came across one Sir Thomas James Humphries in the woods today! I was taking a walk with one of the dogs who happens to have fallen in love with me. The first meeting was very unromantic, unhappily. Our eyes met across the clearing; he took a step towards me and I to him. Unfortunately, at this moment Fella, the dog, noticed his presence and took instant exception to someone who was obviously trying to approach his mistress. He barked and barked and growled and growled and bristled and bristled until I yelled to Sir Thomas, "I am so sorry, sir! Perhaps you should leave!"
"May I come and visit you at Pemberley soon?" he shouted, smiling.
"I would be very happy for you to!" I shrieked back above Fella's cacophony.
I was so happy that he was going to come visit me that when he was gone, I only gave Fella a half-hearted smack on the nose, and he thought I was patting him, and wagged his tail vigorously and issued a few warning barks in the direction Sir Thomas had backed. "Rascal!" I said affectionately, and we ran back to Pemberley.
When I arrived there, Mr Wakefield was there to visit, to ask after me, and to talk to Mr Darcy about a certain tenant. I was quite touched that he had done so, for he is a busy man. He is forever going around people's houses and helping them and performing funerals and important things like that. I had a long conversation with him about forgiveness.
"What do you think about people who formerly were the silliest girls in England and still are very silly?" I asked, concerned.
"Look," he said, smiling at me with a twinkle in his eye, "God forgives anyone anything. I should think that being silly is the least of sins. If you don't have fun you don't have joy, I say. If you are always excessively mature and proper, what is the point in being alive? Whenever I meet with my brother Charles, we have the silliest and best time in the world. Yes, I leave behind any seriousness when I see Charles. It is always a blessing to me, and whenever I feel at all sad or stretched or tired, I think of my enjoyable times with him and I feel much better immediately. It is amazing."
"Really?" I asked, smiling. "That is a very good philosophy. At least, I hope it is sound, because it seems very tempting."
"Of course, there are times for seriousness," he smiled. "Unfortunately. Silliness must be tempered with sound mind, or silliness can become an evil."
"I suppose that is true," I nodded, pondering. "Yes, it is true. If you are always silly and have great times without restraint or serious thought wherever you go, you will not know how to act when the bad times come."
He leaned forward, a surprised look on his face. "That is very profound, Miss Bennet. I could not have said it better. To be sure, how can you comfort people who are mourning while you are bouncing off the walls grinning with la joie de vivre?"
I laughed out loud. "Bouncing off the walls?"
"Maybe a little of an exaggeration," he smiled, "but you see what I mean."
We talked about lots more things, not all of a serious stamp like that – we talked about family and friends, (he was brought up in Yorkshire and his parents and sister Anne still live there, although Anne is engaged and will be married in July, but his brother Charles lives in London and his sister Juliana is married to a naval officer and is in Portugal at present), and we talked about fashion, (can you believe I discussed clothes with a clergyman?), and we talked about horses, (which he has a passion for), and many more things.
And then Sir Thomas walked in, and I, of course, was very excited, and Mr Wakefield looked a little uncomfortable and said his goodbyes, walking out to Mr Darcy's study. Thinking it over now, I suppose he realised that as a clergyman it may not be quite proper to be sitting in a room along with a young woman (Lizzy had left momentarily to get a certain colour thread from her embroidery box) and having an animated conversation with her. I wish there were not silly little society rules like that. It was the most innocent thing in the world – why, indeed, should it be a worry that a clergyman was alone with me? Can you imagine him trying to seduce me or take advantage of me?! It would be the most ridiculous thing in the world! Why, I am certain he has never thought of me in that way at all! And I am glad, for I am sure I would not like anyone to try to make violent love to me, or impose on me, or anything of the sort! He is the most proper clergyman in the world – even more so than Mr Collins, and lots more fun. He never flirts or chases or anything like that, but he is excessively kind and good-natured to me, even though I am an almost-reformed peacock. He even let me wear his coat when I fell into the lake, which I think was very very good of him, and he was obliged to be cold in the wind for some time.
But anyway, after he left, Sir Thomas sat down with me, and he was ever so agreeable and amusing. I am glad I chose him! I think he will be a very suitable husband. He told me about his other estates, which indicated that he trusts me and feels intimate with me, and he has several. His estate here is called Hawthorne Lodge.
"My estate here is not my largest," he said, "but it is my favourite because the house is very pretty and comfortable and I love the countryside, especially that surrounding Pemberley. You are very lucky to be staying here, Miss Bennet. I also spent holidays here, at Hawthorne Lodge, as a child, and loved every minute, so you could say that whenever I think of Hawthorne, pleasant connotations come to mind."
I smiled. He speaks so well, and so affectionately of his house that it is very pleasing. "What are your other estates or houses like, sir?" I asked. "Where are they?"
"Well, I have a house in London," he said, (here I mentally congratulated myself on choosing him – a grand house in London to go to in the Season is one of my ideas of heaven!), "on Grosvenor Square. I don't go every Season, and only go there briefly for business, so it is probably a waste of money, but I do like my house there and don't want to give it up –"he hesitated, "and I always thought that if I got married, "he looked at me with a little blush, "my wife would like to have a house there. Do you think she would?"
"I think she would adore it," I said firmly, trying not to blush.
"Good, good," he beamed – and to my horror, for a moment he reminded me of Sir William Lucas, walking around Lucas Lodge with that smirk on his face saying 'Good, good, capital, capital,' but fortunately the vision faded and he looked quite normal and handsome – certainly nothing like a red-faced squire. "I also have an estate in Cornwall that I do not visit very often; I am actually thinking of renting it out. It is not very handsome, although the grounds are good, but I am quite happy leaving the grounds to the management of my bailiff there. Yes, by Jove, I do think I will rent it out! There seems no point in keeping the house unoccupied. I will talk to my lawyer about advertising it as soon as I go home today." He beamed at me. "Thank you for the idea, Miss Bennet!"
"Me?" I asked, surprised and amused. "I didn't say anything about it!"
"It was your presence," he said. "It inspires me."
I laughed again. "Very well, sir, if you must think so. Do you have any more land?"
"Yes," he said, "I grew up on my estate in Herefordshire, which is very large and grand, and I have an estate in Wales, but I have been thinking about changing the ownership of that to my cousin for some time now. You see, I was the heir to my uncle on my mother's side, because his son married without the father's approval, and he cut off his son and changed his will to favour me – thus I gained the Wales estate. My uncle was not a very . . . amiable man, although I hesitate to speak ill of the dead, and I have often felt uncomfortable that I took the inheritance that should have been my cousin John's, when I was already perfectly well-off, while he has to scrounge and save every penny now. Yes, I think I should do so. It would make me feel terrible forever to hurt John and his wife, who I like very much, and even though in a worldly sense I should keep the estate for the benefit of any children I may have in the future," here he looked furtively at me again, (!), "I would not feel comfortable keeping it." He was studying my face closely to see my reaction. "What do you think?"
"I think it would be a very generous thing to do," I said truthfully, "but as you said, this may injure the prospects of your future heirs. It is a difficult decision, but then, you already have several estates, and it is not certain that you will have children, is it?" I do not particularly want screaming children running around the place, and so I suppose I would bear one son to please Sir Thomas and to provide him with an heir, but I draw the line at more.
"Oh, no, of course it is not certain," he agreed, "but I do think I may get married very soon. Which would present a new perspective to the question, would it not?" He looked at me slyly.
"I suppose so," I said, for it was all I could think of; my heart was beating wildly.
Elizabeth then came back into the room, and was surprised to see Sir Thomas there. "Good afternoon, Sir Thomas!" she said. "How do you do?"
He stood up, smiling, and kissed her hand. "Very well, ma'am. I trust you are well?"
"As always," she smiled back.
He is so very polite and genteel! I am very proud of him. He will be a wonderful husband to have.