So I don't exactly have a plan for this story, but I had this idea today and wrote up a prologue.
TW just for this chapter: Stillbirth/Miscarriage. Maternal death in pregnancy.
Thomas Bennet embraced his youngest daughter, Kitty, and wept. The child was not yet two years of age, but she was now motherless. If only he had not been so selfish in wishing for an heir, then his wife would still be alive. He ought to have simply saved money, bought a small house for his family to move into when Mr. Collins inherited, and followed the doctor's orders. They had been warned that more births would be difficult for Mrs. Bennet, but she was determined to do her duty to him and bear a son.
They did not know if the babe Mrs. Bennet had carried was a boy or a girl, for it had never been born. It had died in the womb and Mrs. Bennet had followed shortly after. Her body had refused to expel the child, and therefore, they had been forced to use extreme measures to remove it. The surgeons would not let him see the babe, saying it was unrecognisable as a child.
"Papa sad?" asked Kitty.
"Papa is sad," said Mr. Bennet. He ought not to burden his child so, but she was the only one at home. The others had gone off to London with their aunt, but as Kitty had been cared for by a local widow until recently, it made most sense for her to return to that cottage while Mrs. Bennet was confined. Mrs. Blackwall, Kitty's caretaker, watched him with compassion, but was concerned that the young girl would be troubled by her father's agitation. She offered to provide Mr. Bennet and his daughters with any possible assistance she could, which he graciously thanked her for.
"I wonder if you might wish to come to serve as a temporary governess to my girls," said Mr. Bennet. "I would pay you handsomely, but I do not wish to rush in finding the person who will mould them in their mother's stead."
Mrs. Blackwall was surprised at his request. She was technically a lady, but only just. Her husband had left her a small plot of land with the cottage, and she had a very basic education. Thus the reason she had taken on the position of wet-nurse for the youngest Bennet after she was left with no husband or children following a dreadful epidemic of scarlet fever. She expressed that she did not know if she was the best choice, for she did not have any of the qualifications of a governess. Mr. Bennet assured her that he would post an ad in the London papers to find a governess, but he did not wish for his girls to be without someone in the interim. He also did not wish to settle for just anyone to care for his daughters, as he had heard dreadful things about governesses being cruel to their charges. With these reassurances, Mrs. Blackwall accepted with her thanks.
By a week hence, she and the four Bennet daughters were installed in the nursery, and she was teaching them that she could. The girls were lovely, but there was a large span of ages which made teaching them all at the same time challenging. Jane was the eldest at eight. Then Lizzy was five, Mary four, and Kitty two. She taught them what she could — letters, numbers, how to sound out words, how to curtsy, simple maths, and how to treat each other with kindness.
Several potential governesses came to call, but none met with Mr. Bennet's approval. All spoke of how they would mould his children into very proper young ladies, their languages, their accomplishments, and their recommendations, but when he asked about their beliefs about discipline and girls learning skills not considered traditionally feminine, their answers had them shown to the door.
Thus, Mrs. Blackwall remained with the Bennets. Occasionally, another governess would be sent to be interviewed, but Mr. Bennet now led with the most difficult questions, as he did not truly care if his daughters leant the harp or the pianoforte. After two years of the same, Mr. Bennet told the agency in London that they could stop sending applicants. He instead began to hire masters to teach his daughters what Mrs. Blackwall could not. They leant whatever interested them, but Mrs. Blackwall ensured they were not idle. Each day, the girls were required to spend at least three hours in some productive activity — whether it be reading, studying, embroidering, or playing an instrument.
Although she had not had the education given to most gentlewomen during her youth, Mrs. Blackwall sat in on many of the girls' lessons and educated herself so she could help her charges. She was given the freedom to explore Mr. Bennet's book collection, which provided her with an avenue for furthering her education on her own. When she did not understand something, she asked Mr. Bennet or one of the masters. Through her actions, she taught the girls to appreciate the value of education, and to seek knowledge with enthusiasm.
As time passed, the girls grew into proper young ladies, surrounded by the love and care of their father and their governess. It was impossible for Mrs Blackwall to replace the mother the Bennet daughters had lost. However, only Jane and Elizabeth remembered Mrs. Bennet at all, and those memories were very few. Mrs. Blackwall was their feminine role model and held a special place in their hearts, as close to a mother as could be.
The children were not the only ones who began to appreciate Mrs. Blackwall's fine qualities. Mr. Bennet also began to admire her. He admired her tenderness and compassion, and he knew that his girls were safe and happily taken care of. He missed his late wife, but he was certain that Mrs Blackwall was providing the children with a level of care she never could have. His dear Fanny was a woman of mean understanding and an uncertain temper, often complaining of nerves whenever anything was not to her liking. Her influence would not have been as steadying as Mrs. Blackwall's.
Mrs. Blackwall was also a pretty woman. Despite being only slightly younger than Bennet, she retained much of her figure and bloom. She was a serious woman in general, but she could tease occasionally when the circumstances were appropriate. She encouraged him to be better, governing him almost as much as the children. She made him leave his library more often than he otherwise might have. She lectured him about financial security when she learned he had saved nothing for his children's futures and had his brother-in-law, Mr. Gardiner, assist in that matter.
It was in her seventh year as governess to the Bennets when Mr. Bennet realised he did not wish to lose Mrs. Blackwall when his children grew up and married. She had become his constant companion and friend. More than that, he felt some tenderness towards her. It was not a passion like he had felt when he was three-and-twenty and had impulsively proposed to Fanny Gardiner. It was a more stable love, built from a shared life. He was in the middle before he knew he had begun.
Thus, one day, he asked Mrs. Blackwall if she would accompany him on a walk to town. The children were attending a French lesson. Mrs. Blackwall protested that she ought to remain in case the children needed anything, but he asked the housekeeper to see to their needs. Having discerned was Mr. Bennet was about, Mrs. Hill happily agreed and ushered the couple outside.
When they were far enough from Longbourn and no one was near, Mr. Bennet addressed Mrs. Blackwall in the most affectionate terms. He listed all of her amiable qualities and how much he appreciated her care for his children. He spoke of the love that had bloomed in his heart, wondering if any seed of that love had taken root in hers. She responded to him with the utmost enthusiasm that she loved him as well. Mr. Bennet proposed to her, dropping to one knee on the side of the path to Meryton. She readily accepted.
When they returned from town — for Mr. Bennet did need to buy several things — they told the children who were likewise delighted. Mrs. Blackwall had to stay at Lucas Lodge for a time, as it was not strictly proper for her to remain in the house with one to whom she was betrothed. She still came daily to help the children with their studies and only departed in the evening when the crickets began to chirp.
The wedding took place a little more than three weeks later. While many mothers were disappointed that Mr. Bennet — who no one had thought would remarry — had chosen someone of so little importance, they could not deny that the pair seemed happy and in love.
Mrs. Blackwall was past the age where it was likely she would give her husband more children, but he did not mind overly much. She still had the cottage that she could return to if something happened to him, as well as money that he had settled upon her with their marriage. She had three thousand pounds, the same amount that each of his daughters would have when they married. It was not a grand sum, and they certainly did not have to worry about fortune hunters, but it was enough that none of the Bennets would ever be destitute.
Each of the Bennet daughters came out at age seventeen, a perfectly respectable age in their stepmother's opinion. Even then, though, there were to be some restrictions, as any betrothal would not be accepted until they were at least eighteen. The girls protested this, but it came about that this did not matter a wit, as neither Jane, Elizabeth, or Mary had any suitors before age eighteen and they expected the same to be true of Kitty.
Jane was the first to marry at age nineteen. She caught the eye of Christopher Anson, Viscount Wallingford, an associate of her Uncle Gardiner's. He wrote her some quite dreadful poetry, but Jane found him charming and sweet. The pair married that summer and he took his wife to live with him in town. Although Elizabeth was disappointed that her sister was to live four-and-twenty miles away, she was happy for the new Lady Wallingford. The Bennets were further pleased when they learned that, due to the viscount's continued participation in trade, Lord and Lady Wallingford were to reside on Gracechurch Street. Their house was only a short walk from the Gardiner's, as the viscount needed to be able to go to the warehouses just as often as Mr. Gardiner.
Mary was next, finding the new rector, Mr. Hadley, most amiable. Her family agreed that the two were very well-suited and found it most pleasant that Mary would live only a little over a mile away at the parsonage in Meryton. They were married in the spring of 1811, although the snow did not realise it was not supposed to come in the middle of April and it felt much more like winter.
Thus, only Elizabeth and Kitty remained at home with their father and stepmother. They missed their sisters — particularly Jane — but they found that they grew ever closer to each other. Before the marriages of their sisters, Kitty had been closest to Mary and Elizabeth to Jane. Yet, forced proximity and loneliness can make friends even out of quite unlikely pairings. Kitty was much more pious and calm. She liked to sew, make over bonnets, and play the harp. Elizabeth preferred being out of doors, walking and riding. She did enjoy reading a great deal, but not the serious sorts of books that Kitty and Mary preferred. Poetry, histories, and novels were much more to her taste. She played the pianoforte and the harp but did not practise as much as Mrs. Bennet would have liked.
Yet, the Bennets remained very content with each other, with Jane often inviting her sisters to visit and their often walking to Meryton to visit Mary. There were nearly always rooms ready for the married sisters to return to whenever they wished to visit, which they did with some regularity.
Neither Elizabeth nor Kitty felt any hurry to marry. If they did not, they knew their futures were secure. The two sisters' small incomes would prevent them from becoming a financial burden on their sisters, but they were also assured that they would have a comfortable place to live, either in the cottage or with one of their sisters. Overall, the Bennets were quite content with their lots in life.
