Yeah, sorry y'all. I've known Miss Dor was going to die for a while now. She was what one calls in Star Trek "a red shirt."
Also, apparently killing off a character cured my writer's block. Now, here's my next internal debate: Should Mr. Bennet tell his daughter's now via letter or in-person when they get home. I imagine Lydia and Kitty will be angry if their father doesn't tell them right away, but then they can enjoy their visit without disruption.
Trigger warning: Stillbirth. NOT either of the babies currently brewing inside a Mrs. Bennet.
"Lydia, Kitty," greeted Elizabeth when she found her sisters in the library the next day. "I have been looking for you."
"I apologise," said Kitty. "We did not know we were wanted."
"No, no," assured Elizabeth. "It is of no matter. I have only come to inform you that the Baxters and the Walcots are expected to attend dinner this evening. I just recently received their acceptance of the invitation."
"Oh! That is delightful!" exclaimed Lydia. Kitty agreed but with less enthusiasm.
"Have you met Miss Baxter or only her brother?" asked Elizabeth.
"Only her brother. I believe she left school a little while before we began," answered Kitty.
"Well, Georgiana is quite fond of her. The Walcots have two daughters as well, although they are a bit older than you both. They have several sons as well, but I think only the eldest attend."
"Is the son handsome?" asked Kitty.
"I suppose he is," said Elizabeth with a smile at her sister. "He is not an officer, though. He is his father's heir."
"Lizzy, you cannot still think us infatuated with officers, can you?" asked Lydia.
"I am glad for it if you are not. Nevertheless, Lydia, you are too young to contemplate matrimony."
"I told you before that I shall only wed a man who lets me continue my drawing and takes me exploring. Therefore, most likely, I shall have to throw myself on the mercy of my rich sister."
Although Elizabeth was glad that Lydia would not wed at an early age, she still gave her a look of exasperation. "I only came to tell you this, as you are not yet out, Lydia. You may attend functions, but you shall not flirt. Neither shall you dance with anyone not approved by James, Darcy, or Uncle Gardiner."
"But Kitty might?" Lydia asked in complaint. "I don't even want to marry. I just want to dance."
"Kitty has to conduct herself properly, but she is almost two years your senior. Although she will not have a formal coming out until the next season, it will not be long. I do not think some practice beforehand would go amiss."
Lydia angrily threw her drawing supplies into her bag, her hands shaking as she tried to keep her composure. Then she took a deep breath and let out a long, heavy sigh before leaving the room. Elizabeth's eyebrows rose slightly as a silent gesture to Kitty after Lydia had gone. Both sisters understood each other. Lydia's inappropriate display reflected her immaturity, which was the reason for the prolonged period of time before her coming out.
By the time their guests had arrived that evening, Lydia's disposition had greatly improved. She greeted the guests with a smile on her face and with all the manners that a young lady ought to show in company. Although he was handsome, Lydia couldn't help but notice the younger Mr. Walcot's eyes were a bit too close together. His sister had thankfully been spared of this family trait that her brother had obviously inherited from their mother. Lydia assumed that the proverb 'Love is blind' was either correct or Mrs. Walcot brought a sizable dowry to the marriage, for she had never seen a couple so disparate in appearance as Mr. and Mrs. Walcot.
As the evening went on, Lydia entertained herself by watching Mrs. Walcot attempt to thrust her son towards Miss Baxter, clearly desiring the connection to nobility and the financial advantage of Miss Baxter's large dowry. Unfortunately for Mrs. Walcot, Miss Baxter paid little attention to any of the Walcots beyond the basic civilities.
Elizabeth was also amused by the matchmaking, finding the boldness of it even more forward than her mother's attempts. Whenever possible, she attempted to shield Miss Baxter from embarrassment, offering to turn the young lady's pages so the gentleman could not, redirecting the conversation when needed, and making sure Miss Baxter was never alone in conversation with either the gentleman or his mother. Elizabeth pondered why Mrs. Walcot did not appear to be concentrating her matchmaking efforts on Miss Walcot, who was already twenty, but then assumed their circumstances were similar to those the Bennets had experienced. It is possible that there was an entail or another factor that necessitated young Mr. Walcot to wed. Elizabeth was not overly concerned, as it was none of her sisters who were the focus of the matron. She was grateful that Georgiana was not out, otherwise the matron likely would have focused on her.
"Elizabeth?" asked Kitty, likely for the second or third time.
"I am sorry. My mind was wandering," Elizabeth replied.
"James, Mr. Hubert, Lydie, and I were contemplating a journey to the Black Rocks on Thursday. It should take no more than two hours when travelling by carriage. Lydia and Mr Hubert desire to draw the rocks, and any vegetation or wildlife they come across."
"That sounds delightful!" said Elizabeth.
Mr. Darcy concurred that it sounded very pleasant. Charlotte would not commit to going until the day of, although she swore that the Darcys and James did not need to forsake their pleasure for hers if she did not feel well enough. The Walcots were engaged that day, much to the others' relief, and would not be able to attend. As they could not plan much without excluding the Walcot's from conversation, politeness demanded the subject be soon changed to something else. As sketching was already mentioned, it was easy for Elizabeth to suggest that Lydia show her sketchbooks to the others.
"Is that a fly?" Mrs. Walcot was appalled when the drawings changed from flowers to insects.
"It is. I attempted to replicate the reflection of the light on the fly to give it a purple hue, but I do not believe that I succeeded. I have difficulty when I attempt to incorporate colours into my drawings," explained Lydia.
"It is…most singular that you should sketch a fly. What measures must be taken to keep a fly stationary during the process of drawing it? Perhaps you could draw more of the flowers and leaves?" asked Mrs. Walcot.
"Oh, the fly was not alive!" said Lydia with a laugh. "Drawing a fly that is alive would be a difficult task. Particularly if you wish to include great detail, as I daresay coming near it with a magnifying glass would be a sure way to make it fly away."
"This is a drawing of a dead fly?" Mrs. Walcot's expression grew even more horrified, if such a thing was possible.
"I do not only draw flies. Here, I have several dragonflies, some centipedes…Oh here is a robin's egg," said Lydia as she flipped though some pages. "A honeybee, a dung beetle, an amber snail…"
"Dearest, Lydia," said Elizabeth, cutting off her sister, "perhaps young Mr. Baxter and his parents might be a better audience for your sketches."
Lydia shrugged and agreed, as she was only speaking with Mrs. Walcot out of politeness. She would much rather talk with the Baxters anyhow.
Elizabeth then engaged in conversation with Mrs. Walcot about the latest fashion trends until the Walcots, not long afterwards, decided it was time to leave. The Baxters stayed longer, as their son and daughter discussed natural philosophy and insects with much more enthusiasm than Mrs. Walcot had. Finally, at nearly one in the morning, Mrs. Baxter declared that they simply must depart, as they had imposed on the Darcys too long. Despite reassuring their guests that it was no imposition, Elizabeth was tired and wished to retire. The young people were told they could come back at a more civil hour the following day, to further their discussion. This was accepted, and they farewelled their guests and retired.
"That poor child!" cried Mrs. Bennet when she read the note that Miss Rachel had sent. "I knew that school was no good! Poor Miss Dor!" Mrs. Bennet's tears were genuine, for she had a strong fondness for Miss Dor.
"Now, now, Mrs. Bennet," consoled her husband, who regretted allowing his wife to read the note before he had made a decision about what to do. "I am certain Miss Dor is happy in heaven with Jesus now. There is no need for tears."
Mrs. Bennet stared at her husband, who she thought very unfeeling. Mrs. Bennet left the room and went to her chambers on the upper level. She requested Sarah's attendance so she might be assisted in changing from her bright-coloured gown for something more sombre. Mrs. Bennet, wearing a brown gown, as she had outgrown her mourning attire due to her expectant state, called for the carriage.
"Where are you going?" asked her husband sternly.
"To the church, or am I not even allowed to go there to pray for Miss Dor's eternal soul?" spat Mrs. Bennet.
Mr Bennet declared his willingness to accompany her. He hastily changed his green waistcoat for a black one and was ready in only a moment. He assisted his wife, her lips set in a tight line, into and out of the carriage. He was unsure of the cause of her ire, but it was quite clear that she was very angry with him. They walked into the church together.
"Mr. and Mrs. Bennet," greeted the vicar with surprise. "How fine to see you."
"Mr. Hadley, it is good to see you as well, although I wish the reason were different," said Mrs. Bennet.
"Oh? Has something happened?" Mr. Hadley questioned, his bright smile slowly fading into a concerned look.
"Indeed. Do you recall Miss Dor? She visited us over Christmas," said Mrs. Bennet.
"I do recall her. A lovely young lady. She is a particular friend of Miss Kitty, if my memory serves."
Mrs. Bennet then began to cry, and Mr. Bennet had to explain the circumstances of Miss Dor's death.
"I am so sorry for your family's loss," said Mr. Hadley.
"So much… pretty… match… visit… Miss Dor… school," said Mrs. Bennet, although her cries of distress made the majority of her words unintelligible.
Mr. Hadley implored Mrs. Bennet to take a seat while he directed her to a pew. She permitted him to do so, and the two men stayed in silence while Mrs. Bennet wept. Mr. Bennet was without his handkerchief, so Mr. Hadley provided his to Mrs. Bennet.
"Even our Lord gave way to tears when his friend died," said Mr. Hadley when her tears had slowed. "It is understandable for you to feel grief regarding the passing of this young girl, who was a friend of your daughters."
"I feel terrible, but also so relieved my girls were not there, that they were spared. Is it immoral to rejoice that it was not my Kitty or my Lydie?"
"You have no joy in Miss Dor's death, only relief that your daughters were not affected. I cannot think that wrong."
"She was such a good girl!" cried Mrs. Bennet.
"I am sure she was, and take comfort in that, for she is most certainly gaining her eternal reward for her goodness."
"Why now! Why must she be taken now? She was so very young; so many get so many more years than she did!"
"We cannot know the ways of the Lord," said Mr. Hadley.
Mr. Bennett gave a light squeeze to his wife's hand, not knowing what to do other than to let Mr. Hadley continue. Mr. Hadley departed momentarily to retrieve his Bible and The Book of Common Prayer from the pulpit. Since this was not a burial, he did not recite the usual prayers verbatim, but rather reworded them to fit the current circumstances. Mrs. Bennet felt the tension within her body dissipate as the words and steady rhythm of the prayers worked to calm her, until she was eventually murmuring along with the prayers that she knew. Mr. Bennet felt an immense sense of ease, as Mrs. Bennet had been more anguished than he had ever observed and now she was calmed. Despite the variance in their opinions, Mr. Bennet had a great fondness for his wife, and he did not like to see her unhappy. He remembered only two other instances when he had seen her so truly unhappy. She often pretended to be miserable, but Mr. Bennet could tell the difference between her vying for sympathy and true sorrow.
The first was when Fanny discovered she was going to have a baby without the protection of marriage, and Colonel Miller wasn't going to marry her. Although she was not informed of the specifics of their conversation, Mr. Bennet was; Colonel Miller had laughed at Mr. Gardiner when he asked him to marry his sister. Mr. Gardiner wanted to take on the man in a duel, but Mr. Bennet would not let his closest friend be killed duelling an officer. As an alternative, Mr. Bennet proposed that he marry Fanny, since he held her in high regard, and Mr. Gardiner contributed another two thousand pounds to make up for Fanny's condition. Fanny never found out the truth about Colonel Miller's departure, as Mr. Gardiner and Mr. Bennet thought it best to keep her uninformed, even five-and-twenty years afterwards. Nevertheless, the outcome was beneficial, as James was the best son a man could wish for, and Mr. Bennet was loath to consider what might have transpired had there been no son to inherit.
The only other occasion when Mrs. Bennet was so overwhelmed with grief when Kitty's twin sister was born lifeless. It was only a few people that were aware of the baby's existence, not even their daughters, yet sometimes he would see Mrs. Bennet visit the small burial area they had put together in the woods, due to the fact that an unbaptised infant could not be buried in the churchyard.
After concluding the prayers, the vicar and the Bennets raised their heads. Mr. Hadley withdrew in a subtle and silent manner, allowing the couple to have some time alone. The stillness inside the church felt almost tangible, as they gazed around at the emptiness in silence. Mrs. Bennet was finally relaxed and ready to depart the church. As they left, arm in arm, their footsteps on the stone floor reverberated throughout the quiet.
Rosings Park, near Westerham, Kent
24th April
Dear Mr. and Mrs. Darcy,
As regards your last letter, I have decided on buying Mrs. Fitzwilliam's mare. Just this week Ben travelled to Hertfordshire to visit Longbourn and see the horse again. He was disappointed to find your brother and sisters gone, but he had a nice visit with your parents. If you have not heard from them recently, they are in good health as of four days ago. We shall receive the horse in July or August, once her training is finished.
As to my mother, we still do not know what to do. We have increased the staff on her house, including several guards in footman's garb, but I worry that shan't be enough. She is intelligent in her madness. Uncle has officially been granted guardianship over her, as the judge needed very little convincing after being shown the letters and hearing of all that occurred. He could have her put away somewhere, but you shall have to apply to him. He only says that it will cause a scandal and that he does not truly think her dangerous since her parson was the one to carry out the act. Despite her madness, he loves his sister so much that it blinds him to the reality of the situation.
Other than being incredibly frustrated with Uncle Frank, we are all well here. I have ridden the ponies many times now, and Ben says I have a talent for riding. I have grown strong, and I think you will not recognise me when next you see me. I hope all of you are in good health as well.
Oh, I have been putting my mind to the finding of a new rector, since the parsonage has now been cleaned and aired. Mr. Powlett, one of Ben's friends, says there is a Mr. Tilney who he believes is an upright and trustworthy clergyman of good character. Mr. Tilney has been a vicar for a long time. Mr. Powlett claims the gentleman takes wonderful care of his flock. He is only considering taking up this position as rector, as his curate is prepared to take over if needed. He brings a wife and son with him, which I think good. Although I have not met him yet, and I will not for several weeks, I think this bodes well. In case it does not, I hope you will keep your ears open for other respectable clergymen. At this point, I simply want a clergyman with no murderous tendencies.
I remain your cousin and friend,
Anne Bateman