The "guests" are in London.
Chapter 32: London Palace
London, seventh day
With an empty just awakening London they arrived to Westminster Bridge in less than half an hour. There, Captain Wickham was present to greet them.
His presence was enough to wake up both the younger Bennets. Lydia because her "dear Wickham" was there to welcome her and Mary because the unseemly behavior of her younger sister was enough to summon the last of her energy.
But Captain Wickham was not alone to greet them and Fitzwilliam's aide, a colonel Mayfayr was soon present to be at their service.
He was charming, smiling and witty and very soon Lydia's attention was drawn to the young colonel who, unlike Wickham, brought no negative frown on Richard's or Mr. Bennet's brow.
But even the unseemly behavior of two suitors was not enough to squelch all tiredness of the Ladies' bodies and soon they were asleep in their rooms in the second floor of the Palace's guests' wing.
Jane was the last to kiss her father goodbye before following a maid upstairs.
Mr. Bennet looked at the general and they both smiled at each other.
"Sorry for you, general, but I really fear you're too late to get a real chance with that daughter of mine..."
"So do I, Mr. Bennet. So do I... And I regret it even more now that I have an estate which would give me the power to choose the woman I really want..."
"Would?"
Fitzwilliam let a rueful smile adorn his lips.
"His Highness granted me an estate in Kent. I fear it will be a long time before I'm able to live of the rent it's providing..."
Mr. Bennet winked at him.
"You really believe so? Aren't you d'Arcy's cousin?"
"Which Darcy?"
"Both Darcys"
Fitzwilliam was not immediately aware of what Mr. Bennet was speaking about. But then he saw the light.
"Gosh, you're right. I'm cousin to both!"
"And for what I saw, the French d'Arcy seems very aware of the importance of family links. He even let my cousin Collins out of deportation camp to please Jane." He laughed. "And that was a real sacrifice even if reverend Collins seems to have acquired a real sense of decency these last days. So if he could accept to stand a prig like my cousin, I do not doubt that your estate will really be yours the moment you decide to live on it..."
Fitzwilliam nodded before bowing before the old Bennet.
"Are you too tired or would you accept to breakfast in my company? I'm a little on the young side and I'd like to hear what really happened during the insurrection..."
"What makes you think that I'm willing to speak of that period?"
"An intuition, Major. I know that speaking of old evils to young officers helps old prigs to sleep better in the following nights."
"Have a little respect for an oldie like me, general. We do not like to be seen for what we are. Prig perhaps I am but prig never I'll be named..."
Fitzwilliam bounced a salute.
"Aye, aye, Sir..."
"We're Navy now?"
"As I see the problem, we're all that remains. So why not also Navy?"
"Why not, indeed. What's for breakfast?"
"You choose, Sir. We have the royal cook and kitchen at our leisure..."
"Now that's good news! What would you say of..."
"It's great! I love it here..."
Jane said nothing. Lydia was so happy it was almost indecent.
She was a guest of the Royal Palace, she had a room for herself and four maids to do her wishes and bidding. And two officers were outsmarting each other to get more of her time.
It was heaven on earth for her...
"It's wont' last," said Mary. "We are only by products. You know that the only reason we are here is to be with Jane while they are preparing the trap for monsieur d'Arcy, aren't you?"
Lydia shot her an ugly glance.
"And what difference does it make? We're here and we're allowed to go nearly everywhere... I'd never ever dreamed to be the guest of His Majesty."
"We are here to entertain the bait, you dummy! I don't see what's so exciting about it..."
Lydia stood up and went to the window.
"That's because you have no feeling for the opportunities! We are here and we are free to do as we please. Use the opportunity God gives to you and..."
"Don't speak of God! He won't..."
Jane looked up and expelled what was the best she could in form of a cry.
"Mary, please! You're no man of the cloak and you do not need to stand guard before the Holy scripture. Lydia doesn't share you visions of a perfect life and she had shown on myriads of occasions that she won't be convinced to agree with you! So please, spare us with your sermons. You know as well as we that you'll never be a priest and that you'll never will be able to use all the knowledge you're hoarding in your mind on any flock of followers! So, please, no need to perform on us to stay in shape!"
Mary shut her mouth and glared at her elder sister.
She was just trying to...
Jane smiled at her.
"I know you were only trying to defend me against Lydia's exuberance. But, please, be conscious that she will never calm down even if you preach to her for a millennium. She's Lydia and that's it. I
prefer her babble and your silence than your unending quarrels. I have already heard the whole of your arguments a thousand times. Please do me the favor to be quiet..."
There was a rasp on the door.
"Enter," said Lydia who was always the first to speak.
Mayfayr's head and smile looked into the room.
"I'm here to escort Miss Bennet to the Library. Your wish to be given access to His Majesty's books has been granted." He entered and bowed. "If Miss Bennet would accept to accompany me..."
Lydia was immediately at his side.
"Can we come with you?"
He smiled at her.
"Why not, I have not asked for your sister in particular. I asked if the guests are allowed. And I just got the answer that you were granted said access..."
"But you'll be quiet," said Jane. "It's a library, not a ball room."
"That's true! What if you'd show us the ball room in place of these old books. It would be much more interesting..."
"Please, just show me the door to the library and you'll be free to show Lydia the rest of the Palace."
Mayfayr bowed once more.
"It will be my pleasure..."
The Library was superb. Probably every book ever published in Great Britain was on the shelves. But most of them, if not all, were new. Some had not even been cut out...
"Nobody reads in this huge a Palace?" asked Jane after putting the third book back on the shelves because the pages were not cut out...
"This is not where we look to find a book," said a voice.
She turned to face a wigged old man, standing while putting most of his weight on a walking stick.
Jane curtsied and he made the hint of a bow.
"We have all our own library," the man went on. "But I have always liked it here. It's great to find new books and new authors. If there's a new genius to discover how will you ever know him if you do not try his books?"
Jane made a face.
"But they are not cut out..."
He shrugged and went to the wall where he pulled a cord.
Two seconds later a footman was there.
"This young Lady wants a few books cut out... Please, do as she wants..."
The footman raised an eyebrow and Jane took the books she had chosen earlier out of the shelves and handed them to the footman who took them and went out the room.
"It will take time,' said the old man. "I like them to be neatly cut. I have a cutter whose job is just that. He does it the whole day long but we buy so much books he never make it up..."
He showed Jane a armchair.
"Please do have a seat..."
She curtsied and took the proposed seat.
He sat opposite her.
"You're a guest?"
"I suppose," answered Jane, "one could name me that. I'm here at the bidding of Prince George."
"Georgy invited you?"
He looked puzzled and then burst out laughing.
"Of course! You are a Lady maid for one of his guests. I didn't think of it because you are so pretty. Most of the Lady maids they send to the Palace are old and ugly and bothersome."
He leaned forward.
"And it's on purpose. They fear I'm going to harass them. So they send only old hags..."
He nodded and looked at her.
"But they are all wrong. I'm no longer able to harass anybody..."
He sighed.
"I don't know how it happened but these days I'm always tired and I am no longer able to finish a book without falling asleep." His smile came back. "That's why I prefer poetry these days. I choose short poems and I always happen to read the whole of them... It's quite satisfying..."
He chuckled and began to babble around poetry.
Mixing fragments with poetic commentaries and useless gibberish.
Jane could do nothing but listen. She didn't know who he was but evidently he was a guest of the Palace and he had lost his mind some time further.
She decided that listening to him was better than listen to Mary and Lydia's quarrels and began to nod and smile each time he looked at her.
The arrangement gave him a visible satisfaction and he went on and on and on...
The servant had indicated the door and if he remembered well they knew always where people were while in the Palace.
Mr Bennet knocked at the door and went in.
"Dear?"
He saw her immediately. She looked at him and smiled.
A man with a wig was sitting opposite her and he was speaking with a certain force about poetry.
When he saw Jane's smile he turned and looked at him.
For a few seconds they looked at each other without saying a word.
"Eddy!" said the old man while smiling at him. "What a good surprise! Since when did you come back from Sweden?"
That remark made Jane frown.
"You were in Sweden, Papa?"
"Papa?"
The eyes of the old man went from Jane to Mr. Bennet and back.
"She's your daughter Eddy? Why haven't I been informed? Why hasn't Caroline written? I'm an uncle, am I not?"
He looked at Jane.
"Hell, you must be thirteen or fourteen! Perhaps even more. More than ample time to inform the Crown Prince. Why hadn't she?"
He turned toward Mr. Bennet.
"And God Eddy, what happened to you? You seem ten years older..."
Mr. Bennet was dumbfounded for a few seconds and then he took control of the situation. All blood drained out of his face but he managed to go on.
"That's because of the Swedish climate, George. Long awful winters and never a sun ray even in summer. Takes his toll on the body!"
"Happy I never went there, Eddy. I would have hated it! How's Caroline?"
"She's well, George. She's well. She sends her greetings and she is very sorry not having been able to come but you know with the pack ice everywhere on the sea we couldn't take the risk... She never liked to travel. It's not now that she will change..."
A tear run across Mr. Bennet's cheek and he made no effort to capture it.
"Awful climate, really..." answered George. "I never understood why you went there."
"It was you father's wish, George. And even if you have forgotten it, it was your idea to marry Caroline to Sweden..."
The old man seemed surprised.
"Was it? God I don't really remember anything about that decision..."
For a second he seemed upset but soon his smile was back.
"Never mind! What is important that I finally had the great luck to see my niece... How is her name?"
"Her name is Jane," answered Mr. Bennet, "and she's the guest of your son George."
The old man shook his head and showed a little anger.
"He could have informed me. What this boy thinks is beyond me!"
He stood up and went to Jane.
He kissed her and patted her hand.
"How nice to finally have met you, dear. When you see your mother, please convey her my regrets. I really, really regret everything..."
With these words he turned and disappeared through a hidden door behind two shelves.
"Who was this man, Papa?"
Mr. Bennet, still looking at what appeared as a normal wall could only shrug.
"That was His Majesty King George the Third."
He shook himself and turned toward his daughter. He had a sad look and his eyes were shining with unshed tears.
"And before you ask, Caroline was his sister and he married her to a Swedish Prince in order to put the greatest possible distance between her and me. She died twenty one years ago..."
He went to his daughter and took her in his arms. She felt him shiver and she did what she could to comfort him.
"And all these years, dear, I have cursed him and his father. And as it seems, my curse was even stronger than I deemed myself up to..."
He paced back and looked his daughter in the eyes.
"This has to be our secret Jane. I want nobody else to know anything about this old story. It's past and from this day on, I know that it has no more reason to be in my mind. Until now, I was unable to let go and it cursed my life and a part of yours..."
He hugged her.
"Forgive me, Jane... I'm a foolish old man who was always looking with regrets over his shoulder when he should have looked at the beauties in front of him..."
"We all make failures, Papa. I did them with Charles and you did them with us. But, in the end, is there something to regret?"
He looked at her and couldn't help but smile.
"You're right! There's nothing to regret. I had it under my eyes and I choose not to look at my life. But that life is still there and, perhaps, it's not too late..."
King George the Third was looking at a portrait.
A portrait of his sister Caroline.
He hadn't looked at her for years. Today, for a reason he would not search, he could.
"Caroline, I'm so happy you finally forgave me... So happy..."
He was still there in front of the portrait when, two hours later, his sons and his doctors showed up looking for him.
His jacket was wet for his tears...
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