Beginning, Section V, Next Section

Chapter Twenty-two.

Posted on Tuesday, 1 August 2006

"Nephew? But you have no nephew, Mr. Bennet! You delight in vexing me so." Mrs Bennet moved uncomfortably in her chair, wrapping her shawl tightly around her shoulders. "If you had a nephew, Mr. Collins would not be able to throw us out into the hedgerows when you are gone."

"My dear, I assure you, I am not attempting to tax you with a hypothetical question." Mr. Bennet's voice was strained as he attempted to clarify the situation to his wife once again. "Although I was not aware of his existence prior to Jane's wedding day, I do have a nephew. He is the son of my brother, John, and he finds himself in need of a home."

"What brother? I thought your brother was dead?"

As Mr. Bennet frowned deeply, Elizabeth tried to explain the circumstances as best she could to someone with her mother's mean understanding.

"Ah, so although you told me he was dead, your brother was actually alive; but now he is truly dead. Do I have the right of it?"

Shaking his head, sadly, Mr. Bennet sighed. "Yes, dear. I hope you do."

The drawing room at Longbourn was filled with the low murmur of voices, as the occupants discussed this piece of news between themselves. As it was no surprise to Elizabeth, she occupied herself by watching her mother and sisters from her vantage point in the corner. Mrs Bennet was fanning herself furiously, momentarily silenced by the surprise of her husband's disclosure. Mr. and Mrs Bingley were in earnest conversation with Mary, while Kitty and Lydia were whispering to one another on the end of the settee. For the sake of keeping the news to themselves for as long as it was possible within such a small parish, Mrs Phillips had not been invited to partake of their joy.

Clearing his throat, Mr. Bennet spoke again. "Young master Bennet will live with us for as long as he chooses to do so. Once I am dead, he will be fully responsible for this estate, and it will be in his power to throw you out on the street, should he so wish. I suggest you treat him with the deference and respect he deserves when he arrives."

"Does this mean that the horrid entail is broken?" Mrs Bennet wore a hopeful expression, as she stared suspiciously at her husband.

"Not at all; it is still very much in force. Legally, young Nathaniel should hold this Manor now - as the son of the eldest son. However, my brother, who, for whatever reason, did not or could not return to claim the estate when our father died, has suggested that he learn the management of the property from me, while he is able, with a mind to take control once I am gone. I understand from his letter that he is more than happy with that arrangement. I also got the impression that he was looking forward to meeting you, my dear."

"Meeting me? And when will that be?" she asked, jumping from her chair and moving towards the door. "I need to instruct Hill to prepare Jane's old room for him."

"He wrote to tell me that he has arrived safely in England and will be with us in three days."

Mrs Bennet was momentarily silenced again, before she threw up her hands. "Three days! Oh my. There is so much to do. I must speak to Hill directly!" she cried as she bustled out of the room. Her voice could be heard down the corridor as she shouted for the housekeeper.

"Papa? May I ask a question?"

Mr. Bennet was surprised by the quiet voice from the corner of the room. "Yes, Kitty. What is it?"

"Our new cousin; How old is he?"

"I do not know his age, except that he has not yet reached his majority. Why?"

Lydia interrupted her sister. "Surely you must be thinking of him marrying one of us?"

Mr. Bennet cringed. "I must think nothing of the sort, Lydia. I leave that sort of thing to your Mother."

"Well, if he is not yet one and twenty, then he will surely be too young to be of interest to Lizzy," Kitty reasoned. "Is he handsome?"

"How on earth would I know that? I have never met him before in my whole life. What does it matter to me how he looks? Is that all you silly girls can think of?"

"Not at all, Papa," Lydia said. "Is he rich?"

Mr. Bennet groaned. "Is not his inheritance of Longbourn enough for you, Lydia?"

"I'm sure it will be, but I do think his father could have left him a little something. Lord! Just imagine if our Uncle owned a ship or grew sugar on a plantation. Our new cousin could be almost as rich as Bingley!"

At this exclamation, Mr. Bingley looked up from where he was talking with Jane and Mary at the other side of the room. Having learnt to ignore Lydia's embarrassing comments, he said, "Well, there was mention in the letters of an estate to sell, was there not? It seems he will be bringing some funds with him, at least."

Mr. Bennet sighed and rolled his eyes as Lydia squealed with delight and clapped her hands, before she and Kitty huddled in the corner, conspiring between themselves over his fate.

"I do think it hard that the poor boy cannot come to an estate, which he has legally inherited, without raising all this speculation," Jane said. "Although I am pleased he is to arrive before we leave for Scarborough. I am very much looking forward to meeting him." She watched as Lydia and Kitty abruptly ceased their whispering and ran out of the room.

Mr. Bennet shook his head and shrugged. "I begin to be sorry that he comes at all. I doubt that the poor lad knows what he is getting into. Let us hope he is no more than twelve years old, and more than usually ugly --- or at least plain, for his sake --- or he will get no peace at all." His thoughts on that subject were interrupted as his wife returned to the room.

"Is it true? Lydia now tells me that your nephew has inherited a great estate from his father and is very rich."

Mr. Bennet huffed at his wife's silliness. "Well, my dear, it is true that he has inherited his father's property, which has in all probability been sold by now. I doubt that he will be as rich as you would want him to be. Do not forget, Mrs Bennet, my brother left here with nothing."

"Yes," she smiled, waggling her finger at him. "But who knows what he has been up to in the meantime. I must speak to the cook about getting some fish for dinner. We must celebrate his arrival!" Rubbing her hands with a satisfied smile, she left the room.

"Lizzy." Her father spoke in a low voice. She looked up as he called, and moved across the room to be closer to him. "I trust you will join with me in shielding young Master Bennet from the worst excesses of your Mother."

"I will try my best," Elizabeth offered.

"Lord only knows what she will do when she learns of the money your Uncle left for your dowries."

Elizabeth looked at her father, who was now standing in front of the mantelpiece wearing a scowl. "You are not going to tell Mama about our inheritance?"

"No, I certainly will not. I think it best that she deals with one thing at a time. I will tell her, and the other girls, when it is needful, and not before. There will be no living with her when she hears of it, but I would like some peace before that happens."

"As you wish, Papa," Elizabeth shrugged. "She will certainly not hear of it from me."

Nathan Bennet leaned back into the hard, lumpy seat of the hack, and occupied himself observing the sights and sounds of the English countryside. This journey from London to Longbourn had given him the opportunity to see the true landscape of the country for the first time since his ship had docked, ten days earlier, and he was fascinated by it.

Arriving in Liverpool had been a great shock for him. He had always thought Kingston to be a large place, but it paled into insignificance when compared to the seething mass of humanity he encountered after leaving the docks. He had never seen so many buildings crowded so close together, or built so tall, and could not imagine that he had even met the number of people he saw in the streets during the course of his whole life.

He rubbed at the sore spot on his back, caused by a nasty jolt during his journey in the overnight mail coach to London. He had left the Saracen's Head Inn on Dale Street two nights earlier and slept fitfully until they had arrived in the capital early the following morning. Apart from the hole in the road that they had encountered --- somewhere just outside Litchfield as far as he understood --- the journey had been uneventful, if somewhat uncomfortable. He would have infinitely preferred to buy a good horse and riding directly to Longbourn, but apart from having to carry his trunk, he had been strongly advised against traveling alone in that manner by his attorney, Mr. Allyn.

As he passed fields of wheat and barley, or meadows filled with grazing cattle and sheep, he compared it with the acres of sugar cane that had been grown on his father's estate. The tall fibrous canes grew higher than a man, and were his enduring memory of home --- or rather, his old home, for he doubted he would ever return to see it again. Gazing peacefully over the undulating hills and flat plains of the Hertfordshire countryside, he could not believe it was so different. His father had described the area well, even after his prolonged absence from the place of his birth. It was probable that his description of Longbourn would turn out to be just as accurate.

Less than an hour later, the small carriage pulled off the lane and through the gates, towards his new home. Nathan was delighted with the house, which he had been dreaming of since he last spoke to his father. He now considered Longbourn, and the people who lived there, to be his responsibility. It would be his home. His father had expressed on him very clearly that he had to learn all he could from his Uncle, because there would be no way of knowing just how long it would be before the burden of the estate would fall to him. It was his life now, his future, and he would do whatever necessary to ensure it would remain for future generations of Bennets.

From the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of movement in one of the windows and wondered whether they were waiting for him inside. His question was answered as the door opened before he had time to reach for the bell.

The woman smiled at him as she bobbed a curtsey.

"I have come to see Mr. Bennet," he announced, a little self-consciously.

"Yes, sir. He is expecting you," she replied, and indicated that he should follow her. As they walked into the hallway, she spoke briefly with a male servant, instructing the man to fetch his trunk from the carriage. Nathan thought he heard giggling from behind one of the closed doors, but he was shown towards another, where the woman knocked and waited. A voice on the other side spoke a clear assent, and the door was slowly opened to allow him admittance.

Stepping over the threshold, he saw that he was in a book-lined study. The servant introduced him to the only occupant of the room, before she returned to the door and pulled it closed behind her. The man who stood to greet him reminded him vaguely of his father; Nathan could see a similarity around the eyes and the jaw, but his hair was longer than he ever remembered his father's to be, and those eyes held a spark of something he had not seen in John Bennet's eyes for a very long time.

As he was assessing the man in front of him, he was in turn being scrutinized. The older man had stared silently at him from the moment he walked through the door. "Mr. Bennet?"

The older man cleared his throat. "Sit down, please. I was not expecting ..."

"Did you not receive my letter, sir?"

"Yes, yes. The letter arrived safely. I just did not think ... you would look so much like your father." Mr. Bennet took a moment to look him over again, frowning with concentration. "Although it could be my memory, playing tricks with me, your hair colour; the shape of your eyes; the set of your mouth. It is almost as though my brother has returned just as he left." He paused, wiping his face with his hand. "You will have to excuse me; I am not used to such shocks at my age. How was your voyage?"

"Not bad at all, sir. The ship made good time."

"And the Attorney? Has he dealt with everything for you?"

"Yes. He has been most helpful. He even took the time to suggest some ventures I might consider investing in, once I come of age."

"Really? That is very gracious of him, I am sure."

From the tone of his voice, and the barely concealed smile, Nathan could tell that Mr. Bennet appeared to doubt the sincerity of the advice he had been given. He grinned at his uncle. "Yes it was, although I did suspect that one of the businesses he suggested belonged to his brother-in-law."

At that, Mr. Bennet laughed. "If you are smart enough to spot that, young man, then I have no concerns that you will be easily swindled." He sat back in his chair, steepling his fingers. "My brother neglected to tell me your age. How old are you?"

"I had my nineteenth birthday just a few weeks ago, onboard ship."

The old man shook his head. He seemed to be disappointed about something. "You are aware, of course, that I have four daughters at home. I doubt you would find sillier ones in the whole county. I am sorry to say that you may have to put up with some initial ... curiosity from them. You should have little trouble from Elizabeth and Mary, but I cannot vouch for anything said by my youngest girls."

"I am very much looking forward to meeting my aunt and cousins. It will make a pleasant change to have such a family. At home, there was only my father and me."

"Your father ... yes." His uncle sat silent for a moment. "Once you are settled in, perhaps we should have a talk about your father. There are things about his life I would wish to know; like why he chose not to return or why he did not send a letter to say he was well." After another thoughtful pause, which Nathan chose not to interrupt, Mr. Bennet offered him a drink from a selection of bottles. When Nathan declined, his uncle said, "You may regret not taking some fortification once you have met your Aunt. She can get a little overexcited at times, and meeting her long lost nephew has been her only topic of conversation these last three days. Are you sure you will not change your mind?"

"I will bow to your suggestion, Uncle." Nathan was pleased to see a hint of satisfaction on Mr. Bennet's face. Whether from having his offer accepted, or just being called 'uncle' for the first time, he had no idea. Once the glasses had been filled, Mr. Bennet proposed a toast, "To John Bennet; always remembered." They raised their glasses for a few seconds before taking a sip of the aged port.

When the introductions could not be put off any longer, Mr. Bennet ushered Nathan across the hall. Standing outside the door the two men grinned at each other as they heard the unceasing chatter of feminine voices. Mr. Bennet put his finger to his lips, before opening the door slowly. Standing behind his uncle, Nathan could hear what sounded like a scrabble for chairs, which continued for a bare moment before complete silence descended on the room. Walking through the door he was greeted by the curious stares of five pairs of eyes, as four young ladies and their mother regarded him eagerly.

"Mrs Bennet. Our visitor has expressed a wish to become acquainted with you." Mr. Bennet's tone suggested that the introduction was against his better judgment. "I am pleased to be able to present your nephew, Nathaniel Bennet." His uncle then stood back to allow his wife and daughters the opportunity to get to know him.

"Oh! My dear boy! I am so pleased to finally meet you," Mrs Bennet gushed with enthusiasm. Nathan smiled as he bowed to his aunt. Mrs Bennet reminded him of the wife of one of their near neighbours at home. Perhaps it was something about the frills on the cap she wore which had brought back that memory, or perhaps it was the way her voice had a slight edge to it.

Mrs Bennet then turned to her nearest daughter. "This is Elizabeth. She is my second eldest, my eldest daughter Jane being recently married. You will meet Mr. and Mrs Bingley tonight at dinner."

Nathan watched as the young lady called Elizabeth curtseyed before taking a step or two back to watch the remaining proceedings with a twinkle in her eyes. He understood that she saw the humour in her mother's behaviour in a similar way to his uncle.

"...and this is Mary. Kitty and Lydia, my youngest, are over here."

All the daughters were dark haired; in fact, in initial observation there was little to tell them apart, as is sometimes the case with sisters. The eldest smiled pleasantly, while the second young lady he was introduced to had her hair pulled back into a rather severe style. The last two seemed joined at the hip, as they stood close to each other, giggling and whispering together. He hoped that he would be able to remember all their names by the end of the evening.

"You must be exhausted with all that traveling. How long did it take you to travel from Liverpool?"

"I journeyed from London this morning, Mrs Bennet---"

She interrupted him immediately, holding up her hands. "Please, my dear. This is your home now; I beg you will call me Aunt Bennet."

"Certainly, Aunt Bennet."

His aunt offered him a seat between two of the daughters, before she reclaimed her own chair. "Well, you are rather tall, are you not? And you have inherited the Bennet colouring, of course. In fact, apart from your height, you remind me a little of my dear Mr. Bennet when he was a younger man. Pray, sir, how old are you?"

He stole a quick glance at his uncle, who was doing a poor job of hiding his mirth. "I am recently turned nineteen, ma'am."

"So young? You appear much older than that. Nineteen? Well, that is the same age as Mary, and only a year above Kitty here. You had no brothers or sisters of your own?"

"I am afraid not. My mother died before my first birthday."

"Oh, you poor thing! You have not had a mother all these years?"

Nathan shook his head. "No. My father chose not to remarry."

"Well, my dear boy, you must think of us as your family now. It is just wonderful to have another man about the place. When Mr. Bennet told us you were to come to Longbourn I was completely speechless!"

After a further half hour of conversation with his aunt, Nathan wondered whether Mrs Bennet might ever run out of words to tell him how happy she was at his arrival. Although he found her attentions a little overbearing, it was not an unpleasant experience to be so warmly welcomed. His aunt even showed him up to his room personally, and pointed out the views from the large windows before she left him alone with his thoughts.

Someone had opened his trunk and his clothes had already been put away. The remaining items had been placed carefully on the bed. He picked up a framed pencil drawing of a large property standing on a hillside, surrounded by lush tropical greenery. That house had been his home for his whole life, and now it belonged to a London Sugar Merchant.

The other items laid on the counterpane included a small piece of rock with the imprint of a shell, which he had found on the beach; a carved wooden box; an exquisite miniature of a young woman with auburn hair and brown eyes, and an old book, bound in black leather. There was no title on the spine and the front cover was damaged around the edges, but, out of everything he had carried away, the book was his most treasured possession.

Later that evening, further introductions were made upon Mr. and Mrs Bingley's arrival at Longbourn. Nathan had been surprised by the fair colouring and sweet disposition of his eldest cousin, while Mr. Bingley exclaimed how pleased he was to make his acquaintance and encouraged him to visit Netherfield as soon as it was convenient.

After the dinner Mrs Bennet had arranged in his honour, and an evening spent with his new family, Nathan considered that, of his unmarried cousins, Miss Elizabeth was probably the most beautiful, with a playful personality, while he remembered Miss Mary for favouring them with a memorable turn on the piano, which Mr. Bennet had thanked her for most insincerely. The two younger girls, who laughed too loud and whispered behind their hands, were apparently called Lydia and Kitty, although by the end of the night he would have been hard pressed to say which was which.

It was late in the evening, and Mr. Bennet looked up sharply when Nathan returned to his study.

"Uncle Bennet? I thought you might like to see this. I brought it from home." He held the book out to his uncle, who accepted it with a questioning glance. "It is my father's journal. It may help to answer some of the questions you may have about his life."

Mr. Bennet held it gently in his hands, like the most delicate piece of china. He lifted the cover before gingerly turning the first few pages until he came to the first entry. "This first page is dated almost five years after he left England!"

"Yes, I know. He did reminisce about his earlier years, but not until near the end."

"Thank you, Nathaniel. Thank you for letting me look at this."

"You are more than welcome, Uncle. I know he wanted you to see it. If you will excuse me, I will leave you to read."

Chapter Twenty-three.

Posted on Tuesday, 8 August 2006

Elizabeth was still feeling tired, as she woke from a disturbed night's sleep. However, the fragments of the dream, which she tenuously held onto, shed little light on her discomfort. Climbing out of bed, she sighed as she peered through the rain-streaked window. This summer shower would no doubt blow over soon, but it would prevent her from taking a walk, or sitting out in the garden this morning.

Longbourn was shrouded in silence as she went downstairs, intending to sit in her favourite chair by the drawing room window. The hours before breakfast --- when most of the household were still in bed --- were special to her. She appreciated the stillness and solitude, which enabled her to read, write or sew without the constant interruptions of her family.

However, on entering the room, Elizabeth was surprised to find Nathaniel lounging in her favourite chair, watching the rain drops as they skipped down the glass. He was startled when she entered the room, but quickly stood to acknowledge her with a polite bow. "Good morning, Cousin Elizabeth."

"Good morning. Am I disturbing you? I did not expect to find anyone in here at this time. Normally, only my father and I are about the house so early."

He shrugged before returning to his seat. "I usually rise with the sun. This morning I was woken by the rain instead."

Elizabeth picked up her embroidery hoop from the table and took the seat opposite. "Is it strange for you to see rain? I thought that the weather in the Caribbean islands is always warm."

"Yes, it is warm. My father used to say it was like the warmest of English summers all year round, but we did also have rain. The rainy seasons in October and November, or in May and June, can bring a heavy rainfall, and it can continue for days; sometimes with flooding." He looked back towards the window, his brow creased in thought. "I never minded the rain; it was always good for the crops."

"I am surprised you are not exhausted after all the calls you made with Mama yesterday."

Returning his attention to Elizabeth, Nathan grinned as he recalled the previous day. "After spending all those weeks on board the ship, confined in a limited space, I find that I appreciate being out and about. At home, I would spend much of my day on horseback, so traveling by carriage as I was exhibited around the parish was not really tiring."

Elizabeth smiled at his choice of word. "Exhibited? Yes, I believe Mama is prodigiously proud of her new nephew. Who did you visit yesterday?"

"Who did we not? I must have met the whole of Meryton yesterday. First, Aunt Bennet called on Mr. and Mrs Howard at Canwell House. I particularly enjoyed their company, because their younger son was stationed in Kingston for a while, so they were very interested in hearing about my life in Jamaica. Then we went to see Mr. Purvis and his sister at Purvis Lodge."

"And how does poor Miss Purvis?"

"From their conversation I gather she is little changed. She is carried downstairs by the footman every morning, and sits by the window watching the birds. Then we saw Sir William and Lady Lucas, and their family. Your mother seemed keen to discuss some mutual relatives; a Mr. and Mrs Collins is it?"

"Yes, Mr. Collins is our cousin and his wife was formerly Charlotte Lucas. Mr. Collins would have inherited Longbourn had you not returned. Mama was convinced that, had anything happened to papa, Mr. Collins would have thrown us out into the hedgerows. I can easily imagine how she was crowing over your return to Lady Lucas, no doubt making sure that she clearly understood the change in situation in no uncertain terms."

"Ah, that would explain why I sensed that they did not seem particularly happy to see me."

"I would not be at all surprised." Elizabeth knotted her embroidery thread, before choosing another colour. "The Lucas's youngest son, John, is only one year older than you. Did you have the opportunity to meet him?"

"Unfortunately not, but I hope to make his acquaintance soon. We received an invitation to dine at Lucas Lodge next week."

"I assume that was not the extent of your visits. Did Mama take you to call on Mrs Long while you were out?"

"Oh yes!" he laughed. "Aunt Bennet was more than happy to introduce me to her friend, but certainly less pleased by my introduction to her nieces."

"I can well imagine that! How did you find the girls?"

"I had very little opportunity to make a judgment, as we did not stay above ten minutes. They both seemed rather quiet. Afterwards we visited Admiral and Mrs Harrington, and their family. The two eldest daughters seemed a little disappointed that I was not in uniform. They reminded me a little of your younger sisters. My Aunt also introduced me to Miss Watson."

"Miss Watson? And what did that venerable lady have to say?"

"The same as everyone else. She was very pleased to make my acquaintance, and looked forward to introducing me to her nieces. I had not expected to be in such great demand. I felt a little like a beast going to market." He smiled as he heard Elizabeth's tinkling laugh. "We had barely made ourselves comfortable before leaving to see Mr. and Mrs King, and their daughter, Mary. Anyone who we did not call on before dinner must have been at your Aunt Phillips' house yesterday evening."

"And what plans have you for today?"

"I hope to visit Netherfield. During our conversation on Monday, Mr. Bingley suggested a ride around his estate and offered to lend me a mount ... assuming the rain eases, of course," he replied, with a hopeful glance towards the window.

"If that is the case, and with your leave, I will go with you. I can then keep Jane company while you and Mr. Bingley are riding. My sister will be traveling to Scarborough next weekend, and I would like to spend some time with her before she leaves."

"You are very close to Mrs Bingley?" Nathan asked with a genuine expression of interest.

"Yes, Jane is the dearest of my sisters. I miss her very much, although I am happy that she has been so fortunate in her marriage."

Nathan grinned. "I am afraid I make a very poor substitute."

Elizabeth laughed. "Yes, you do, but I dare say you will do better than Lydia," she teased.

A few hours later, Elizabeth and Nathan took the carriage to Netherfield Park. As the pair traveled along the lane to Meryton, her cousin looked thoughtful. "Cousin Elizabeth, do you not ride?"

"No, I do not! Horses are wretched things."

Her cousin laughed. "And what did they do to you, that you should have such a poor opinion of them?"

"As a child learning to ride, I was thrown to the ground and I broke my arm. Fortunately, it was a clean break and it healed well, but since then I prefer to trust my feet to take me where I want to go. I derive great pleasure from walking."

"I do not mind walking, but I much prefer the freedom of a horse to go where I will. I used to enjoy taking my horse down to the beach where we would ride along the sand, galloping through the waves as they lapped the shore."

"That certainly sounds exciting. I have never been to the sea-side; Mama has always longed to go, but Papa would not take us."

"Do any of your sisters ride at all?"

"Mary does not, but Kitty and Lydia know how to ride, although neither has been on a horse for a while. As you have seen, we have the carriage horses, but they are usually needed to work on the farm as well. Keeping a horse just for riding is a luxury we can not afford."

Nathan nodded his head and he appeared to be thinking about her statement as the carriage drove through the gates of Netherfield.

Both Jane and Mr. Bingley, who, as another recent addition to the family, probably knew how Nathan felt better than anyone, enthusiastically welcomed their arrival at Netherfield. Elizabeth was pleased to see her brother in law taking the time to get to know the young man, whose life had been turned upside down following the death of his father.

The two men spoke for over an hour about horses and hounds. Nathan admitted that he had reluctantly left his own dog at home, because its advanced age made it doubtful that he could sustain the crossing to England.

"I had heard that one of Mr. Goulding's pointers has had a fine litter," Bingley said. "Perhaps we can have a ride over to Haye Park one day this week to look them over?"

"I would certainly be interested in seeing them. I do miss the companionship of a dog, although I am also in great need of a horse. Longbourn has nothing that suits my needs. Can you recommend anywhere with some decent stock?"

"Well, for horses we should see my neighbour, Mr. Pickard at Hillfield. His son is very knowledgeable about breeding horses, and he has extensive stables. However, until you have found one which suits you, you are more than welcome to borrow one of mine." Turning to his wife, Mr. Bingley explained to Jane and Elizabeth that he was taking Nathan to see the horses, and the two men left.

Once they were alone, Jane called for tea before turning to her sister with a smile.

"I am so pleased you could come. I have missed our conversations during these last three weeks."

"And I too, Jane, but you have seen me. I must have visited Netherfield with Mama at least six or seven times since your wedding day."

"Yes ... and Mama has been here more often still," Jane admitted reflectively. "I meant that I have not had much opportunity to speak to you alone. I will admit I am quite grateful to Nathan for his arrival. His presence has given Mama something else to fix on."

Elizabeth laughed. "Nathan certainly is the object of all her attentions at the moment. These last two days she has hardly spoken of anything else."

"And how is our young cousin settling in, Lizzy?"

"Better than I had hoped. Papa seems really taken with him. They spent most of yesterday morning together, either out around the farm or in the library. Then, Mama took him around the parish in the afternoon, and introduced him most magnificently, and with such a proprietary air anyone would think he was her own flesh and blood."

"You can hardly blame her; he is so delightful and rather charming."

"Something which he may well come to regret."

"How so?"

"Because Lydia and Kitty have almost come to blows over their cousin already, and have constantly striven to gain his attention since his arrival."

"The poor thing! And what does Nathan think of Kitty and Lydia?"

"He hardly knows what to make of them. Last night he called Kitty 'Lydia', which was not well received by Kitty at all. I do not think he can yet tell them apart."

"The novelty of having a new cousin will soon wear off. For our part, I know that Bingley finds him most amiable, and is optimistic of a growing friendship between them. I think he may come to see him like a younger brother. He was very impressed by Nathan's experience with horses."

"I know that Nathan was very much looking forward to his ride today. He seems quite desolate without a horse of his own."

"I am sure that Bingley will have something to cheer him," Jane replied with a serene smile.

Once the tea had arrived, and Jane had served them both, she moved the conversation to her visit to Scarborough the following weekend. Jane had heard nothing but good things about Bingley's aunt, Mrs. Harrison, and she implored Elizabeth to put off her trip to the lakes with Aunt and Uncle Gardiner.

"As much as I would love to join you, I have been looking forward to visiting Kendal for months. I am sure I will have another opportunity to see Scarborough. If Bingley's aunt is as amiable as you say, you will most likely see her again. You are going to have a wonderful time, Jane."

"Oh, I do hope so. I dearly want Bingley's aunt to like me. Caroline did mention that she can be a little temperamental on occasions."

"Perhaps she is with Caroline, but I am sure you will find her most amiable."

A movement outside suddenly captured Jane's attention and she moved to the window to get a better view. "Look, Lizzy!"

Elizabeth joined her sister in time to see Bingley and Nathaniel on horseback, their long coats billowing out behind them as they raced across the park. Both men appeared to be enjoying themselves immensely.

"There, do you see?" Jane asked, turning to her sister. "That will do them both good. I have no doubt at all that Bingley will lend our cousin a horse while we are away."

"I am sure he will," Lizzy smiled. "But the question is, will Nathan want to give it back?"

Elizabeth sat on the stone bench, under the willow; where the motes of sunlight breaking through the canopy danced as the light breeze rustled the sheltering branches.

The time fixed for her northern tour should have been fast approaching, but she had received a letter from Mrs Gardiner, which had both delayed its commencement and curtailed its extent. In it, she explained that Mr. Gardiner had been prevented by his business from setting out until a fortnight later, and must be in London again within a month. Therefore, she was sorry to say that they were obliged to give up the Lakes, and substitute a more contracted tour, which would go no farther northward than Derbyshire. When she read this, Elizabeth recalled Mr. Darcy's offer of receiving them at his home, and the possibility of meeting Georgiana again so soon after Jane's wedding had gone a long way to dispel the disappointment she felt on missing the Lakes. However, she was in two minds whether to put the proposal to her Aunt and Uncle.

Meanwhile, another letter had arrived this very morning for her perusal. Elizabeth had been waiting almost a week for news from Scarborough, and she was not to be disappointed as, on opening out the pages, she saw that there were two sheets filled with Jane's neat hand. She settled herself to read the letter through, noting the obvious happiness of the writer, both in her company and her location.

Bingley's aunt, Mrs Dorothy Harrison, was the widow of a retired Ship Owner, whose vessels had imported goods from various ports across the German Ocean. Her house, which Jane described as well proportioned and comfortable, was located in the village of Falsgrave, situated just over a mile outside the spa town of Scarborough.

Her sister obviously enjoyed her visits into Scarborough very much, and many lines were taken up with her walks along the south sands with Bingley, and her descriptions of the shops around Newborough Street and Merchant's Row. She wrote of an evening spent at the Theatre Royal, and the summer dance they attended at the Town Hall, where Bingley had only reluctantly allowed her to dance with other family members.

Jane also wrote of the Spaw, where the waters were said to have medicinal qualities. Mrs Harrison had quietly suggested that they could assist with the conception of a child, and even offered to pay the seven shillings subscription for her. Although Jane had no concerns about conceiving a child --- they had been married barely more than a month after all --- she wrote of being unwilling to upset one of Bingley's relations so early in her marriage, and had agreed to visit the 'Spaw House' later in the week.

Turning to the second page, Elizabeth had to smile, as she read:

... Mrs Harrison appears to be a most popular visitor to the Assembly, despite her advancing years. I must have been introduced to almost everyone in the room! She was quite interested to hear about you, Lizzy, and seemed disappointed that you were unable to join Bingley and me for our visit. She mentioned the names of a number of gentlemen whom she would have been happy to acquaint you with. To be honest, she does seem to revel her role as a matchmaker, although I will admit that the ladies and gentlemen who benefited from what you might call her 'interference' that evening did not seem wholly unhappy with their situation.

I asked my dear Bingley why Caroline was still unmarried when her Aunt seemed so adept at finding husbands for her acquaintance, but he told me that even someone as talented as Mrs Harrison has to have some failures!

I have been introduced to one gentleman during my stay who I do think you would have appreciated. Bingley's cousin, Mr. James Harrison, does have a very clever mind and a gentle, but incisive, wit and during our conversation together he reminded me of you in a number of ways. He is unmarried, despite his mother's very determined attempts, and quite pleasing to look on - my own dear husband not withstanding of course! Bingley has invited him to Netherfield for the shooting in September, so perhaps you may have a chance to meet him after all.

"Oh, Jane!" Elizabeth whispered to herself, with a smile. "Not you too! Mama is bad enough!"

I suppose it is fortunate that Mama did not entreat me to bring Lydia or Kitty, for the remains of the Castle are currently in use as a Barracks for a battalion of Regulars, and red coats are to be seen on every street. The officers are plentiful at dances and evening parties. However, I am sure that Mrs Harrison's talents would be wasted on Lydia, for she would need no assistance in finding dance partners!

Elizabeth giggled as she imagined how Jane and Bingley would have struggled to chaperone their younger sisters in a town with so many officers. Continuing to read, she was distracted by the sounds of hoof beats and the clatter of harness on the lane. Peering through the overhanging branches, she caught a flash of colour and movement through the corner of her eye and realized that a carriage had entered the sweep, and was heading for the house.

Moving out from under her sheltered spot, she could see it clearly now. At first, she thought it might be Mr. Darcy's carriage, but on second look, she could see it was not. Although it was just as large as the one that had brought her home from town, the driver's livery was blue, rather than the green she remembered, and the body of the coach, which at first had appeared black, was now clearly a very dark blue.

Elizabeth walked quickly towards the house, curious to see who should be visiting her father in such a grand conveyance. By the time she reached the door, the occupant was already inside the house, and the horses were being led around to the stable yard to be cared for. That suggested, at least, that the visitor had no plans to leave immediately.

As she entered the house, she came across Mrs Hill leaving her father's library. Before the door closed, Elizabeth heard her father, and another male voice she did not recognize. "Mrs Hill. Who is with my father?"

"A gentleman for the Master, Miss Bennet. Excuse me, Miss. I have to take a message to John. He is to fetch Mr. Nathanial from Hillfield." So saying, she left the house, walking in the direction of the stables.

With many questions going through her mind, Elizabeth returned to the garden, and her perusal of Jane's letter, although she could not bring her full attention to bear on the task. Sometime later, she watched as her cousin returned to the house.

Slowing his horse and reining him in near where she was sitting, Nathan called out to her and waved. "Lizzy! What are you doing out here? I understood we had visitors?"

She stood up, but would not move any closer to him while he was still atop his horse. "I know that Papa has a visitor, and that you are wanted in the library, but I do not know who awaits you."

"Neither do I," he shrugged. Swinging his leg over the horse's back, he jumped to the ground, kicking up dust from the dry earth. As he brought the reins forward, he smiled innocently as he said, "would you walk him to the stables for me, Lizzy?"

Her eyebrows raised, she looked at her cousin with a mock frown. "I will not dignify your request with a reply! You only do it to tease me."

He returned a cheerful grin. "I have never known anyone distrust horses like you, Lizzy. I promise I will get you riding again, if it is the last thing I do." Laughing at her grimace, he strode in the direction of the house.

She watched from a distance as he met John at the door and relieved himself of his horse. Brushing some of the dust from his coat, he stepped into the house to join his uncle in the library. Elizabeth was intrigued as to the identity of the visitor, but she resigned herself to waiting. She was sure to find out soon enough.

Chapter twenty-four.

Posted on Tuesday, 5 September 2006

Mr. Bennet watched the gentleman who sat across from him carefully. He had no doubt that the man was who he claimed to be, even before the letter of introduction was offered, and read. He knew, by his self-assured manner and way of speaking, that he was used to having control over every aspect of his life.

While they waited for his nephew to arrive, they bandied idle chatter; the sort of glib nonsense he would usually make a point of avoiding. The man in front of him was well dressed, for certain. The cut of his fine black coat and trousers suggested an expensive London tailor, and his neck-cloth was intricately tied; no doubt exhibiting one of the latest fashions. Mr. Bennet guessed that he was somewhere between his third and fourth decade; in fact his youthful looks suggested no more than thirty-five. The visitor had already explained that he would be returning to town the same day, as his wife was carrying their third child and did not like him to stay away from home for too long.

After a brief knock, the door opened and Nathan strode into the room, his riding gloves in his hands. Since he had settled at Longbourn, the young lad had been out, riding through the parish or visiting nearby families, almost every day, although he always found time to spend an hour or two with his uncle, discussing the estate accounts or problems with the livestock. "Ah, Nathaniel, my boy. I am pleased you could join us. There is someone here who has come today to make your acquaintance." Mr. Bennet watched the boy closely as he looked warily at the visitor before bowing politely. Turning to the visitor now standing to his left, he said, "May I present your nephew, Nathaniel Bennet."

"It is a pleasure to finally meet you after all these years. Mr. Bennet has been telling me what he knows of your life in the Caribbean, but I will admit I would love to hear more."

Mr. Bennet looked at his nephew's questioning expression before explaining, "This is your mother's brother, your Uncle ... Lord Rempstone."

He watched Nathan's expression clear, replaced by a genuine smile. "A pleasure to meet you, sir," he responded formally, before they both took a seat.

Thomas Bennet had expected his nephew to be stunned or shocked by his revelation, so his impassive response was unexpected. "Forgive me, Nathan, but you do not appear to be quite as surprised about your Uncle as I was when he arrived here earlier."

"Well, father did mention the odd bits and pieces about my mother's family." He turned to Lord Rempstone, as he explained. "He told me once that I was named after my maternal grandfather, although he never really liked to talk about Mother very much. It always made him sad, you understand. Because of that, I knew not to question him closely about it." Returning his attention to Mr. Bennet, he said, "I heard more from my old nurse. She told me some stories from when my Mother was alive. The way she explained things was not always clear, but I understood enough."

"Well, young man, there are a lot of your mother's people who are looking forward to meeting you, not least of all your grandmother," Lord Rempstone said.

Nathan sat, open mouthed, before he managed to whisper, "Grandmother?" The visitor nodded his head, smiling broadly at his reaction.

"Of course you must go and see your grandmother." Turning to Lord Rempstone, Mr. Bennet enquired about the lady's health.

"She is quite hearty, and well able to keep up with some members of the younger generation. She is currently staying with my wife and family at our house in Town." He brushed an imaginary speck from his fine coat. "My Mother has sent me to invite you to visit with her."

"London?" Nathan was surprised by the offer. He turned excitedly to Mr. Bennet. "May I go, Uncle?"

"I certainly can have no objection to you going." Although Nathan had been at Longbourn only a few weeks, he knew that his daughters and the servants alike would sorely miss his young nephew. If only he knew of a way to break the news to his wife. Since his arrival, Mrs Bennet had been more content and her nerves less prone to excitement than at any time he had known in the previous ten years or more. She treated Nathan like the son she never had, and he knew she would be distraught at his leaving for town so soon after his arrival. No, he would get no peace from this news.

After arranging to receive his nephew the following week at their Grosvenor Square property, Viscount Rempstone made his apologies for not being able to stay longer, and returned to his carriage for the return journey to London. When their visitor had left, Mr. Bennet turned to Nathan as they were walking back to the library. "I will admit, reading your father's journal never prepared me for that surprise. Why did you not mention that your mother was from such an elevated family?"

"I am sorry. I never really thought much about my mother's family, as they were rarely mentioned at home. I found out most of the information from my nurse. She told me the story of how my parents met and married, not my father."

"I know what your father wrote in the journal about his wife, but I confess I would be interested to hear what you know of the events if you wish to tell them."

"Certainly, Uncle." Nathan accepted Mr. Bennet's offer of refreshment before he made himself comfortable to tell his story. "I mentioned my nurse earlier. My mother engaged her at the time of my birth. Her name was Hessie and, as she was of a similar age to my mother, they were as close to friends as they could be, given their relative positions. Of course, I only had her word for that, but I never heard anything from my father to contradict what she told me. When I was old enough to express my curiosity, it was Hessie who explained the story as she was aware of it." Nathan settled back into his chair and crossed his long legs in front of him. "My grandfather had arrived on the island to do some business with the Governor, and brought with him his wife and daughter. His sons remained at school in England. As my father's holdings had grown by that time, he had involved himself in the local politics of the island, and therefore came to the attention of the then Viscount and his family."

Mr. Bennet interrupted him. "What sort of local politics?"

"As well as holding his own land, he also represented the interests of a group of absentee landowners with the Governor, and spoke on their behalf in meetings."

"Ah, I see. Pray, continue with your story."

"Well, as I understand it, my mother fell in love with my father on first sight, and he was very quickly attracted to her. However, Lord Rempstone, my Grandfather, originally refused my father's petition for her hand. While his income and holdings on the island were acceptable, the Viscount had hoped to attract a titled husband for his only daughter, and my father just would not do."

"Well, I cannot say I am surprised. Even as a boy, my brother was always striving for what was just out of his reach. However, at that time it was usually the apples from the top of the tree."

Nathan smiled at the picture of his father climbing trees to reach the inaccessible fruit. "I understand that my father was not in the least daunted by his negative response; on the contrary, it made him all the more determined. Less than a month later, just before he was due to return to England, Lord Rempstone suddenly changed his mind and allowed them to wed."

Mr. Bennet was engrossed as he sat listening to his nephew. His tale was all the more fascinating for being about someone he knew so well. "So how did my brother overcome the objections against him and marry your mother?"

Nathan shrugged. "I do not know exactly what was said, or promised. Hessie told me that he charmed my Grandmother into submission, and then enlisted her aid in changing her husband's mind. Whatever happened, I assume he must have spoken eloquently, or at least convinced her parents of his deep affection for her daughter, as they finally relented. Two weeks later, they were married at St. Andrew's Church in Kingston. The ship which carried my grandparents back to England left Kingston two days after their wedding, and my mother never saw any of her family again."

"Yes, your mother died when you were so young." He watched as the young man nodded slowly, the sadness clearly visible on his face. "I read your father's thoughts on her death in his journal. He was obviously devoted to her."

"He was. I believe that was why he never remarried. He did not think that he could love again in quite the same way."

Mr. Bennet coughed; the conversation had suddenly turned more personal than he was used to. He looked at his young nephew, who was now staring pensively towards the window, lost in his thoughts and memories. He wondered whether it was better to spend two years with someone who inspired such a deep love and affection, or a lifetime with someone for whom he struggled to find any respect. If he had his time over again, would he choose to wait a further ten years to find a wife he could be happy with, rather than shackle himself to a woman of such shallow opinions and mean understanding? He would never know.

Clearing his throat, Mr. Bennet waited for Nathan's attention. "While we are alone, there are some other matters I would like the opportunity to discuss with you today. The first relates to my cousin, Mr. William Collins. As you may be aware, until your arrival, he expected to inherit Longbourn upon my demise. Unfortunately, your position within the family has placed him at a serious disadvantage." Mr. Bennet picked up a letter from his desk, and unfolded it carefully. "I did mean to write to him myself, but somehow never managed to find the time. I was half expecting him to visit as soon as he heard the news of your arrival; I had no doubt that some of the good-natured, gossiping Lucases would inform him at the earliest opportunity. However, it seems that Lady Catherine requires his permanent attention while her daughter is away visiting relatives. I will not sport with your patience in reading the whole --- he can be rather long-winded at the best of times --- but, if you will permit, I will read the pertinent section to you."

Moving the letter away from his face, to better focus on the words, Mr. Bennet began to read aloud:

I was informed last week, by letter from Hertfordshire, that the son of your late brother is now residing at Longbourn. That the reason for my father's troubling disagreement with yourself and your own father should have been alive and well all this time is, obviously, both distressing and pleasing to me---

"What does he mean by that, Uncle?" Nathan interrupted.

"Only that Mr. Collins' grandfather --- my own uncle --- was the reason why John left Hertfordshire in the first place. He offered your father an adventure, which he could not refuse; my brother always did have an adventuring spirit within him. The Collins inheritance which he received included property overseas which my Uncle was eager to claim, and he convinced John to accompany him. When they did not return, my father put the blame squarely against his younger brother, and the disagreement with my cousin ensued."

"Ah, so he is distressed because the disagreement between your family and his own was unnecessary, but pleased that my father had survived?"

"Quite. But wait ... do not judge his understanding too hastily; there is more---"

It only goes to confirm what I always believed. Regardless of the transgression, it is our Christian duty to forgive. I could say more on this subject, but I am resolved to be charitable in this matter. I was most interested to hear about my new cousin, of whom no one seemed to have the slightest knowledge. You can imagine, my dear sir, what a surprise it was to me to hear of his existence from someone other than yourself, especially when his arrival has such a material effect on my own future happiness. However, it is not my intention to bemoan the loss of an inheritance that I always understood to be immutable. My esteemed patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh has consoled me with the possibility of another living that is in her gift, when it becomes available. She has also graciously advised me to seek legal advice on this matter.

Nathan frowned. "He means to challenge my inheritance?"

"I believe that his intent is to reassure himself of its validity; no doubt to satisfy the demands of the esteemed Lady Catherine as much as of himself. It is no more than I expected. However, I will write to your father's attorney to advise him of this situation." He opened his desk draw and drew out a thicker packet of papers. "Talking of which, I received these final documents from Liverpool this very morning. I was digesting their contents when Lord Rempstone arrived. They confirm the proceeds from the sale of your father's estate, which I have been charged with holding in trust on your behalf as your legal guardian."

Nathan looked at him, his expression alert, but he remained silent.

Mr. Bennet wondered just how much his nephew was aware of his father's settlement on his daughters. "Nathan, did my brother discuss his testamentary wishes with you; both generally and in regard to my daughters?"

His nephew nodded. "Yes, we discussed all of his wishes before he made his will and I fully agreed with his decisions. If I remember correctly, an amount equal to my mother's dowry was to be divided equally between your daughters, and held on their behalf until such time as they married, or released at our discretion."

"When I read of that provision for my daughters in my brother's letter, I never expected your mother's portion to be so significant. Of course, that was before I found out about her family connections. This means that they will have an equal share amounting to seven thousand pounds each, not including the five thousand pounds which was settled on my wife and daughters at the time of my marriage. I am truly astounded by the generosity of both you and my brother."

Nathan smiled. "Before his death, my father spent a considerable amount of time impressing upon me the responsibility I would have as your heir, especially regarding the wellbeing of my aunt and cousins, particularly should any remain unmarried at the time of your, er ... death."

Mr. Bennet sighed. As the years passed, he had developed a growing reluctance to mention that word.

"We both agreed that this would be a good use of my mother's dowry," Nathan continued. "It would have been passed to my younger siblings, had I been fortunate enough to have any. As I have now acquired five sisters, it is only right that I do what I can for them."

Having already perused the papers once, Mr. Bennet was interested to hear his nephew's opinion on another part of the disposition. "Are you also aware of the total amount of the residue from your father's estate?"

"Not exactly, but I have a general idea. My father did not spend his money unnecessarily; he was content to live a relatively simple life."

Mr. Bennet slowly released the breath he was not aware he had been holding. It seemed that this morning --- which had started out much like any other --- had already become full of surprises. Not including the money for his nieces, John Bennet's estate, after all his property had been sold and the debts paid, had amounted to slightly less than eighty-nine thousand pounds; a respectable sum by any reckoning. He suddenly understood that, thanks to the arrival of his nephew, there was now little need for him to ever to be concerned for his family's future again, and the fact that it had all been done with such trifling exertion on his side had made it all the more pleasant.

"I have decided not to make the amount of your father's estate generally known among the family, nor tell them about the money for my daughters."

"You mean you do not wish Mrs Bennet to know."

Mr. Bennet smiled, encouraged by his perspicacity. "That is correct, although I believe you will also benefit from that decision. The funds have been invested, and from the income generated, you will receive an allowance for new clothes, travel or perhaps study? Have you thought about continuing your education?" Mr. Bennet frowned as he looked at his nephew. "I assume that my brother did give you a proper education?"

"Yes, Uncle Bennet. My father ensured that I benefited from the talents of a Master."

"Hmm. In that case, perhaps I can contact my friend at Cambridge to see about getting you in for the beginning of the Michaelmas term." He looked once more at the letter in front of him. "At least you will be able to afford all the necessary rents and fees without difficulty."

"Yes, that is true," Nathan agreed lightly.

"And you---" A knock on the door interrupted Mr. Bennet. He frowned as Lydia put her head around the door.

"Papa, I wondered whether Nathan could walk with me to Meryton? I have a few things I wish to buy, and Kitty will not accompany me."

Mr. Bennet was slightly suspicious of his youngest daughter's submissive tone. Since Wickham had absconded, and the regiment had left the area, there was little need for him continuing to insist on her walking with one of her sisters, although Mr. Bennet was reluctant to allow matters to revert to the way they were before. "Is Mary not available?"

"Mary can never spare the time, and I do need to go. Please say he can come?"

"Lydia, we are in the middle of a discussion. Can it not wait?"

Nathan shuffled slightly in his chair. "Uncle, I would be happy to escort Lydia. We can continue our discussion when I return. Perhaps, this afternoon, we can also go through the tradesmen's accounts again?"

"Very well, if you wish. Lydia, your cousin has more important occupations than to watch you trying on new bonnets for hours on end. Do what you have to do, and then return."

"Certainly Papa," she replied, before turning to smile sweetly at her cousin. "Nathan, I will await you by the door."

After giving his permission for Nathan to escort his daughter, Mr. Bennet watched from the study window as the two cousins walked confidently down the drive, towards the gate. Lydia was clinging desperately to Nathan's arm, while she leaned closer towards him. Had he not been quite so tall, he was positive that his daughter would be whispering in his ear given half the chance. His youngest daughter was almost his wife reincarnated. He sobered as he remembered Mrs Bennet's enthusiasm before their marriage, and he resolved to give his nephew a quiet word of warning about Lydia.

Shaking his head in dismay, Mr. Bennet lowered himself into his chair, as his mind returned to ponder the question that had vexed him since reading the letters from Liverpool. He had read almost half of his brother's journal since Nathan had been so good as to lend it to him, but it had so far not given up John Bennet's biggest secrets. How on earth could a young man of barely twenty years leave Hertfordshire with nothing, survive a shipwreck by the skin of his teeth, make his way to the Caribbean Islands and gain such land and income?

His reverie was interrupted by a knock on his door. Frustrated by yet another intrusion, he called, "Come in!" He was surprised to see Kitty enter his room. He could not recall the last time she had come to see him of her own accord. "Yes, Kitty? What can I do for you?"

His daughter seemed dismayed, as she looked around the room. "Oh! Is Nathan not with you? Lizzy thought he might be in here. I was looking for Nathan to ask if he would walk into Meryton with me. I did ask Lydia, and she said she would, but now she is gone and I cannot find her anywhere."

Mr. Bennet sat back in his chair with a sigh. Not for the first time did he meditate on the reasons why he should be burdened with such silly daughters. "I am deeply sorry to disappoint you, my dear. Lydia has already left for a walk to Meryton not ten minutes ago, and your cousin is with her."

"Oh, Lydia!" she cried hopelessly. "Why does she do this to me?" Bringing a handkerchief to her face, to stifle a distraught sob, she ran from the room.

With a shrug of his shoulders, Mr. Bennet returned his attention to the papers on his desk. Even should Nathan prove to have an extravagant nature --- something he was quite convinced was not the case --- he could not hope to spend the full amount his annual interest, which meant that the surplus funds could be reinvested to gradually increase his income. Mr. Bennet marvelled at the opportunities that would be available to his young nephew, as long as he could stay out of the grasp of his mercenary wife and youngest daughters.

"Mr. Bennet!" His wife startled him as she abruptly burst into the room without knocking. "Mr. Bennet, what have you done to poor Kitty? She is upset and it is all your fault!"

Rising from his chair he took in a deep breath before replying. "Naturally, Mrs Bennet, it must be my fault." His tone held a definite warning, but his wife appeared incapable of noticing it. "The very act of sitting at my desk and dealing with my correspondence must be such a fearful sight that my daughter could no longer cope with the horror of it all. I am surprised that you could endure such a malicious act on my part. Now, if you do not mind, I would like to be allowed to read in peace!"

Seemingly ignorant of her husband's tone, she said, "Well who is responsible?"

"I would suggest you ask Lydia," Mr. Bennet replied coldly as he returned to his seat and opened a ledger on his desk. However, if he thought that would be the end of the conversation he was to be sadly disappointed.

"Lydia? What has she done? Where is she?"

He responded without raising his eyes from the line of figures. "At this moment? I would say she is almost half way to Meryton by now."

"On her own?"

"Oh no, my dear," he sighed. "She is not on her own, but I almost wish for my nephew's sake that she was."

Darcy sipped his coffee, as the footman laid the silver salver bearing the morning post discreetly on the table. He took the first letter from the pile and studied its direction. Recognizing the hand of his steward at Pemberley, it was laid to one side for later perusal when he retired to work in his study.

The second letter was one he had been waiting for, and he broke the seal impatiently, spending only moments reading the two dozen polite words in the tradesman's neat hand. The item he had ordered was finished, and ready for inspection at his convenience. He made a mental note to advise Mr. Jessop that he would be going out that afternoon and would be needing the coach.

The final correspondent was easily recognised. If anything, Bingley's handwriting was even worse than usual. What was it about marriage that could affect a man's penmanship to such an extent? His initial assumption was that it was written in haste, but then again, most of his friend's communications appeared to suffer under very similar conditions.

Taking another sip of the strong brew, Darcy sat back against the chair, interested to hear how married life was treating one of his closest friends. It was much as he expected. Mrs Bingley remained a perfect angel, while Bingley's Aunt had been enraptured by the company of her new niece. The places they had been and the entertainments they had enjoyed were enumerated in his familiar, and careless, manner. Many of the words were left to the reader's imagination while others were obliterated by inkblots. After a few moments of concentration, Darcy understood that it was their intention to remain in Scarborough until the end of August, before returning to Netherfield in September, when a grand shooting party was to be held.

As he continued down the page, deciphering the remainder of the letter, his expression grew bleak. His first response was to rip the missive into shreds, as though destroying the written words would render Bingley's own opinions unfounded.

After his visit to Longbourn for Bingley's wedding, he had harboured such hopes. How could they have been dashed by a few careless lines of ink on a crumpled sheet of paper?

Chapter twenty-five.

Posted on Tuesday, 12 September 2006

Richard Fitzwilliam smiled as the large black door swung slowly inwards in response to his smart rap on the lion-headed doorknocker. "Is your Lord and Master taking visitors this morning, Jessop?"

Darcy's stoical butler addressed him impassively. "Mr. Darcy is expecting you, sir. He is in the library. Do you wish to be announced?"

"No need for that, I will see myself up." Leaving his hat and cane with Mr. Jessop, Colonel Fitzwilliam bounded up the stairs enthusiastically, and walked briskly along the corridor until he reached his destination. After a brief knock, he opened the door, poking his head in to look around, only to find what appeared to be an empty room. "Darcy?"

"Here, Richard!" his cousin called, emerging from behind a bookcase in the corner, a book in each hand. "I thought I might see you today. Georgiana mentioned yesterday morning that you were expected back from Brighton."

"Yes, and what a den of iniquity it was too!" he exclaimed ruefully. Dropping down into an upholstered chair, he rubbed at his face irritably. "I had to deal with more drunk on duty's and insubordination charges in the last few weeks than I would normally deal with in a year in town. And that was only from the regulars. I do not even want to think about the Militia units. If Napoleon wanted to invade Kent right now, he would find it easy pickings indeed. The Innkeepers, gamblers and light-skirts are keeping the rank and file --- and even some of the officers --- far too well occupied to worry about protecting the coast from invasion."

"Oh, and of course, you were the model of propriety," Darcy said dryly as he placed the books on his desk, his eyebrows raised skeptically.

Richard made a concerted effort to look offended. "Compared to some, yes! I was the very soul of virtue! I attended no more than a handful of card parties and assemblies at the Old Ship; my opportunities for entertainment have definitely been wanting. There was very little of interest going on. They only held three races on the downs during the whole of my stay. I even kept a weather eye open for Wickham, but I saw nothing of him."

Darcy's expression darkened. "No, you would not have seen him, because he is not there." His cousin let out a slow breath, his countenance bleak. "Wickham is currently absent without leave from the Derbyshire Militia."

"Really? I know not why I should be so surprised. It is no more than I would have expected from him. When did he manage to slither away?"

"Just before the regiment were due to leave Hertfordshire for Brighton at the end of May. At least he had the decency to clear out before Bingley's wedding. Mr. Bennet took great pleasure in telling me of his flight."

"Mr. Bennet? What interest does he have in Wickham?"

Darcy looked uncomfortable. "While we were at Rosings I spoke to Mr. Bennet. I warned him about Wickham, and what he was capable of."

Richard was surprised by the admission. "You told Mr. Bennet about Ramsgate?"

"No, not that," his cousin was quick to clarify. "But I did explain the sort of trouble the man could cause if not checked. With the knowledge, Mr. Bennet was able to curtail Wickham's opportunities in Meryton, and he made the tradesmen of the town aware of his dishonourable financial habits." Darcy sat back in his chair with a satisfied expression. "In the face of a local populace who were now aware of his proclivity for less than gentlemanly behaviour, and his mounting debts of honour, Mr. Bennet believes Wickham left before the regiment were forced into taking action against him for disrepute."

"Good! It is no more than he deserved. Wickham has been getting away with it for far too long. And I suppose improving Mr. Bennet's opinion of you could not hurt either." Richard grinned.

Darcy seemed irritated by his insinuation. "I will have you know that, regardless of my own feelings, I have found Mr. Bennet to be one of the most interesting gentlemen of my acquaintance, and certainly more amiable and shrewd than I originally gave him credit for."

"Yes, I remember a time when you did not much care for the Bennet family," he teased. "In fact, I believe you called them ... what was it? Ah yes, I remember! A nightmare, you said. I assume they must have improved a little to earn your good opinion." Richard watched as his cousin's brow furrowed. He could almost see the beginnings of a small thundercloud forming over his head. "There is no use you getting angry with me, Darcy. I am only repeating your own words."

After a moment, Darcy let out a sharp, cynical snort. "You are correct, of course. I can only blame my previous poor opinion of them on my own ignorance. While some members of the family do not necessarily improve on acquaintance, their behaviour can, at least, be better understood after spending time in their company. I also found Mrs Bennet's brother, Mr. Gardiner, to be a very gentlemanlike man, and Georgiana warmed to Mrs Gardiner immediately. I have never seen her so comfortable with people she had not previously been acquainted with. Perhaps I was a little hasty with my initial observations," he conceded quietly.

"Good. So the wedding went well, I take it. Were you able to spend any time with Miss Bennet?"

He watched as his cousin's expression softened; a smile spread over his face as he recalled their meeting. "Yes, Georgiana and I both spent time in Miss Bennet's company. Georgiana found her most delightful and Miss Bennet seemed pleased to make her acquaintance."

Richard watched as Darcy toyed absently with the penknife on his desk, lost in thought. "So your opinion of Miss Bennet has not changed." It was a statement rather than a question. He waited for some sort of response from his cousin, but Darcy's attention appeared to be elsewhere. Richard was just about to speak again when his cousin released a heavy sigh and silently shook his head. "In that case, what are you doing in town? Why are you not back in Hertfordshire? I am sure Bingley and his charming wife would be happy to receive you whenever you ask."

"I had intended it that way myself, but I cannot. Bingley has taken his new wife to visit his relatives near Scarborough. They will be away until the end of August. I received a letter from him only yesterday."

"And how is married life treating him?"

"He appears to be deliriously happy. He is planning a shooting party in September and has asked me if I would like to attend."

"That sounds like excellent news. Visiting Netherfield would give you the perfect opportunity to spend more time with Miss Bennet." Richard looked again at his cousin. Darcy did not appear as enthusiastic about it as he would expect. "Is there some problem?"

"September may be a little too late. Bingley's letter contained further news. The Bennet family have recently welcomed a visitor into their home; a cousin from whom they had previously been estranged. He is to live with them permanently, inheriting the estate after Mr. Bennet's death."

"But I thought that Collins fellow was to inherit Longbourn; you know ... Lady Catherine's parson?"

"It would appear that his position within the family has been usurped. I find myself in an unusual position of having some sympathy with his situation. Bingley insists in his letter that I will want to meet Cousin Bennet; that he is an excellent fellow, and very good company."

Richard watched as Darcy began to stab dejectedly at a wad of paper with his penknife. There was obviously more to this than met the eye. "And?"

"And Bingley also felt it necessary to add that Mrs Bennet has expressed a hope that this cousin will marry one of her daughters," he replied bitterly. He stopped what he was doing and looked down at the shredded remains of the paper for a moment before slowly returning the knife to its accustomed place on the desk.

"It does not necessarily follow that your Miss Bennet will be the chosen sacrifice."

Darcy shrugged his shoulders. "No, but as the eldest unmarried daughter she would be the most likely, do you not think? Besides, she is far and away the most beautiful," he said, turning in his seat to stare out of the library window.

Richard smiled to himself. Darcy had unusually allowed his comment about Miss Bennet being 'his' to pass unchallenged. Either he was simply not giving the conversation his full attention or he had already resigned himself to his inevitable fate. "And, of course, you are not biased in your opinion at all."

"Do you not think so?" Darcy turned back briefly, his expression showing his puzzlement. He obviously could not see her as anything other than beautiful.

"I will grant you, Miss Bennet is exceedingly pretty, but, apart from Mrs Bingley, I have not had the pleasure of meeting her remaining sisters. I will have to bow to your superior knowledge."

"Believe me, the man would be either blind or a fool not to want her, especially with Mrs Bennet championing the match."

Richard felt a growing annoyance with his attitude. "If you think that, why are you not knocking on their door asking Mr. Bennet's permission to court his daughter? You consider him a friend, do you not? Do you believe he would refuse you? Or is it her own opinion which concerns you the most?"

For a moment, his cousin made no reply. Finally, he said, "She remembers nothing of my professed feelings for her, and I know that she considers me as no more than the brother of her friend. What would you have me do? Arrive at Longbourn and proclaim my feelings when she does not even believe me to possess any?" He laughed bitterly. "I did that once before, if you remember, without success. Perhaps, had I been able to go to Netherfield during the summer as I had intended, I could, over time, have gradually changed her opinion of me, but every circumstance seems to be against me." Darcy's slender fingers curled slowly into a fist; the only outward sign of his frustration.

Richard sighed. Darcy had spent most of his adult life inuring himself to the manoeuvrings and politics of London society. From his earliest times, he had always given every appearance of being supremely confident in his surroundings. His carefully nurtured façade of indifference kept enemies, friends and even some family members at arms length. Richard modestly considered that he was one of the few people --- that he was aware of --- who were able to catch a glimpse of the real Fitzwilliam Darcy.

He had always suspected that it would take someone rather different from the norm to winnow through the cracks in those defences and reach through into his heart. He had seen subtle changes in his cousin's behaviour ever since the spring and he was sure that Miss Bennet was both the cause and the reason for those changes.

His own reasoning behind pushing Darcy during their fateful conversation at Bingley's, months earlier, had been to see how far he was prepared to follow his feelings. In truth, Darcy had already taken far more drastic action in this matter than he had ever anticipated. When his cousin had finally confessed the nature of his behaviour in Kent, the Colonel had been genuinely surprised; both by the fact that he had admitted the failed proposal, and by the depth of his feelings for Miss Bennet. He had suspected his cousin's attraction to her at Rosings, but he had never guessed that the lady had also captured his heart to such a great extent. Since that time, Richard had gladly assumed the role of confidante; a role he was more than happy to play if it helped his favourite cousin to find the happiness he deserved.

A noise from the street below shook Richard from his reverie. "If your renewed acquaintance with Miss Bennet is meant to be, then I am confident that you will find a way. It is not in your nature to give up something you desire without a fight." He paused momentarily, as the reason for his visit came abruptly to mind. "Ah, Darcy, before I forget. Mother has asked me to remind you of the party at Rempstone House next week. She wants to know whether you were able to accept the invitation. I believe there is someone she would like to introduce to you."

His cousin sighed again; this time the sound suggested more a feeling of exasperation rather than unrequited love. "I love my aunt dearly, but she persists in holding onto this idea that she has to find me a wife. All the women she introduces to me are insipid debutantes with little wit, and no opinions of their own."

"Unlike another lady I will refrain from mentioning again," Richard teased. "I would imagine they pale in comparison, do they not, Darcy?"

Darcy walked away from the window, and into the middle of the room. "Damn it, Richard! You know they do. They have neither sense nor intelligence enough to compare." His pacing around the room clearly showed his frustration. "Take the one she introduced just two nights ago," he complained. "I do not recall her name, but her father owned property near Droitwich. She was an only child, and had been brought to town to find a husband. The Countess thought I would make an excellent candidate, and the girl's own mother could not help but agree."

"But...?"

"She was a tiny little thing! Even shorter than Anne ... and she laughed like a horse."

"Heard many horses laugh, have you?" Richard asked, earning him a sharp look from his cousin.

"I certainly heard one that night. Before that, it was the daughter of Sir John Packington of Stourport. While I found Sir John had some fascinating ideas on increasing crop yields, the girl herself was almost too scared to open her mouth. The last thing anyone would want is a wife who jumps in fright whenever you speak to her." At this, Darcy sank into the chair opposite and supported his head in his hands. "And these are your mother's idea of a good match! Why does she torment me so?"

Richard sympathised with his cousin's predicament. "She feels responsible for you and only wishes to see you happily settled. You are fortunate --- at least she is making an effort for you. She seems to have given up on me completely. It could be worse; she still has Anne in reserve if necessary. I think she holds out some small hope of changing your mind about our cousin."

Darcy looked up at him, his expression softening to one of concern. "How is Anne?"

"She is much improved, as you would know if you called at Matlock House more often. Georgiana visits her almost every day. They have even started walking in the park together. When I returned from Brighton, I saw a great improvement straight away. I understand Dr. Hall is also very pleased with her progress."

"I think he sees it as a matter of pride to prove his point against Lady Catherine."

Richard laughed. "If he does not, it will not be due to any lack of effort on his part. He comes to check on her at least once every week; in fact, Mother mentioned only last night that she sees Dr. Hall far more often than she sees you! She is quite delighted with him, and is considering engaging him for her own consultations."

"Perhaps if I could spend an evening in my Aunt's company without hearing about the charms of some young lady or other, I might be inclined to spend more time there."

Richard laughed, but paused in his reply when the clock began to strike the hour. "Is that the time? I must be off! I am supposed to be meeting a friend at White's." He jumped out of his chair. "And talking of my Mother, do not forget that you are both expected at Curzon Street for dinner this evening."

"Thank you. I had not forgotten," Darcy remarked with a wry smile.

"Good. In that case, I will see you later, cousin."

Richard dashed out of the house, and mounted his horse. Less than ten minutes after leaving one member of the Darcy family, Colonel Fitzwilliam encountered the other. He was riding down South Audley Street, towards Piccadilly, when he saw his cousins, Georgiana and Anne, heading towards the Matlock townhouse in Georgiana's landau. Mrs Annesley and Dr. Hall accompanied them. He waved to attract their attention, and the carriage slowed to a stop.

"Where have you all been?" he asked jovially as he reined in to halt at their side.

"We were walking in Hyde Park," Anne explained. "But Georgiana's foot became sore, so we must return home."

"A sore foot, eh? Well, you could not have timed it more perfectly, with the good doctor in attendance." He smiled at his youngest cousin before turning his attention towards Dr. Hall. "Hello, Hall, it is good to see you again. I am just come from Darcy's. I was telling him that I only have to look at Anne to see how much improved she is, so your treatment must be working!"

"It certainly is, Fitzwilliam. Miss de Bourgh has improved a great deal since coming to town," he replied, giving his patient an encouraging smile. "I find that I have a great ally in Lady Matlock."

"Oh, yes. There is nothing more formidable than my Mother, when she has an objective in her sights. I mentioned once to my C.O. that we should have a whole Battalion of Mothers. They would be a perfect weapon to put the wind up the French." Lowering his voice slightly, he added, "She certainly scares me often enough." He smiled, casting his gaze briefly around the carriage. Dr. Hall was nodding in appreciation of his jest, while Anne tried to hide an approving smile. However, Georgiana's attention was directed towards another part of the carriage, which suggested that her thoughts were elsewhere. He would have to remember to ask Darcy about that later. "Ah well, I must leave you. I have an appointment to keep."

After bidding the party farewell, the Colonel continued on to St James's Street to spend a number of hours with an old acquaintance. Although Richard greatly enjoyed the jokes and banter with his friend, when it came time to dress for dinner, he knew better than to be late when he was staying at his mother's.

Dinner had progressed very much as planned that evening, with the exception that Dr. Hall had been invited to join them. Having been away in Brighton, Richard was surprised by the ease in which his parents had accepted the Doctor's regular visits to their house since Anne's arrival.

He had been particularly curious to watch his young cousin's behaviour at the table. For most of the meal, Georgiana did not show any particular regard for Dr. Hall. In fact, when she did enter into any conversation it was mainly with her brother. However, Richard had been sat directly across from her, and by the time the ladies were retreating to the drawing room he had seen enough to be concerned.

The gentlemen took their after dinner drinks and spoke at length about politics, sport and livestock, and Richard had been pleased to see Darcy at least acting more like his old self. However, once Lord Matlock had excused himself to return to his wife, Richard took the opportunity to delay Darcy and Dr. Hall at the table a moment longer. "You must have worked wonders on Georgiana's foot this afternoon. She seemed to have no problems walking on it this evening."

Spencer Hall explained that it was more the trivial nature of the injury that had caused Miss Darcy to heal so quickly. "Sometimes a twisted ankle can be quite painful when it first occurs --- especially for young ladies. As long as it is not a serious sprain, the pain and swelling soon subsides."

Darcy then turned to his friend. "I can definitely see a real improvement in Anne. She seems to have put on a little weight, which suits her quite well, and her eyes are not so dull, while her face seems livelier than I have ever known it."

"Do not let my mother hear you say that, Darcy. You never know what ideas might take root." Richard then turned his attention back to the doctor. "My young cousins seem quite comfortable in your presence. I understand you have been checking on Anne regularly. Is Georgiana here every time you call?"

The doctor shook his head. "Not on every occasion."

"And has she complained of any other illness while she is with Anne?"

"Not at all," the Doctor replied warily. He frowned as he turned to Darcy. "If I was in any doubt about Miss Darcy's health I would have informed you immediately; you know that, Darcy."

"Of course you would. I have no doubts about that, my friend."

Fitzwilliam noticed his cousin's confused glance in his direction, but he was stopped from voicing his next question when a footman, who brought a note for Dr. Hall, interrupted their conversation.

Grimacing at the message on the paper, he looked back to his companions. "I am sorry, gentlemen, but it seems that I will have to leave you. Something has occurred which demands my attention."

"We quite understand, Spencer," Darcy replied, before wishing his friend farewell.

After the doctor had left the room, Darcy looked across at his cousin with a concerned stare. "Is there something troubling you, Richard?"

"Me? What makes you say that?"

"You appeared distracted during dinner, and you were certainly asking some odd questions of Spencer a moment ago."

Richard was undecided whether to speak of his thoughts and observations or not. He did not wish to create any bad feeling between two friends, but he also felt responsible for making his cousin aware of his suspicions. "What do you think of Dr. Hall?"

Darcy looked slightly taken aback by the question, but answered easily enough. "He is the best of men. I have known him for many years and I trust his judgement implicitly."

Pouring himself another brandy, the Colonel took a leisurely drink before asking his next question. "And how would you like him as a brother?"

"Brother? Richard, what on earth are you talking about?"

"I would have thought that was obvious," he replied testily. "Do you think he would make an acceptable suitor for Georgiana?"

Darcy's brow furrowed for a moment. When he spoke, it was to ask a question rather than answer one. "What makes you ask?"

"When I left you earlier, and I met up with Georgiana, Anne and Dr. Hall on their way back from the park, they were taking the carriage back because of the injury to your sister's foot."

"Yes," Darcy interrupted. "But it does seem better now. I noticed no problem while she was walking into dinner."

"Neither did I. However, I also noticed the way she looked at your friend while they were sat in the carriage, and again this evening at the table. It is not obvious, unless you are particularly looking for it, but I believe your sister may be showing a preference for the good doctor."

"That is ridiculous, Richard! She is not yet out, and she has known Spencer since she was a child."

"She knew Wickham when she was just a child, and you know what happened there," Fitzwilliam pointed out. Seeing that the mention of Wickham and Georgiana in the same sentence had offended his cousin, he held up his hands in placation. "I thought it was something you should be aware of. She is not a young girl anymore."

Dropping heavily into his chair, Darcy sighed. "I am slowly beginning to realise that, my friend."

"You did not answer my earlier question. If Georgiana has developed feelings for the good Doctor, how would you deal with the situation?"

"To be honest, at the moment I could not say. Your suggestions have taken me by surprise; I will have to think on the matter carefully."

"Yes, perhaps you should," Richard replied soberly.

Continued in Next Section