With a lightness of step, Colbath sought out his beloved Morag to give her the excellent news. At least this time, the price of doing afavourfor the damned Duke was not too high.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
For the first time in her life, Fanny Bennet discovered what it was like to be on the receiving end of negative gossip. It had started at Sarah Lucas’s house. Fanny had arrived to gleefully boast about her success in marrying off her second and least deserving daughter so well.
She was told Lady Lucas was not at home to her. Fanny had screeched at the housekeeper, the Lucases could not afford a butler, but the woman had closed the door in her face.
Rather than graciously retire, Fanny had banged on the door until none other than Sir William had answered it. He had told her the entire neighbourhood was aware of what she and Bennet had done to Eliza and neither she nor Bennet were welcome at Lucas Lodge again. To emphasise his point when Fanny had refused to leave without speaking to Sir William’s wife, he had reminded her, he was the magistrate and as such he could have her arrested for trespassing.
From Lucas Lodge, Fanny had gone to the Longs, then the Gouldings, and lastly the Purvises. Her reception had been the same at each house.
After Purvis Lodge Fanny had instructed the coachman to take her to her sister’s house in Meryton. The door had not been opened to her and all she received were looks of scorn from any townspeople who saw her.
Each one cut her.
By the time she had arrived back at Longbourn, Fanny had been in high dudgeon. She demanded her husband fix everything, but he had barely raised his eyes from his book as she fumed. He then returned to reading without a word.
Having convinced herself it was an aberration, after all, no one cared about what happened to Miss Lizzy, Fanny headed into Meryton the next day. She entered the milliner’s store and every customer turned their backs on her. Worse than that, the proprietor told her Longbourn’s account had been closed. She would, henceforth, have touse coin to purchase anything.
Reeling, Fanny went to four more shops, including the general emporium which used to belong to the Lucases. It wasthe same in each. Backs turned on her and no account, payment in full only.
This time when she returned home, because it would affect his ability to purchase books and port, Bennet roused himself from his study and rode into the town.
For once his wife had the right of it. Even his account at the bookseller was closed. He returned home after having received demands for payment of all accounts. It seemed the denizens of Meryton did not appreciate his way of trying to end the entail.
He remembered in her ranting his wife had suggested they apply to the Duke to set things to rights in the town for them.
Bennet sat and wrote a letter to the Duke of Hertfordshire requesting his help.
A terse reply, written by the Duke’s secretary, was received the next day telling Bennet never to bother the Duke again.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
On Saturday morning, the last one in April and only three more days to the day Elizabeth dreaded, an enormous Hertfordshire coach came to a halt outside the Gardiners’ house.
Not too long after, the butler announced the Duke of Hertfordshire and Mr. George Wickham.
Aunt Maddie, Jane, and herself had been sitting and working on embroidery when the corpulent old man was shown in. Elizabeth smirked as she watched her fiancé waddle into the room.
The three ladies stood and gave curtsies, the Duke inclined his head and Wickham bowed. “I am here to present myfiancée with an engagement ring and to inform her of the time of the wedding at St. Paul’s,” the Duke stated with no preamble.
He had taken a seat and pulled the ring from his waistcoat pocket. He handed it to Wickham to give to Miss Elizabeth.
“This is far too large for me, unless you mean for me to wear it on my thumb, Your Grace,” Elizabeth noted impertinently.
“Wickham, measure my fiancée’s finger,” the Duke ordered.
Was she worth the trouble? He decided after a moment, she was. Or, at least, she would be after she bore him an heir. Regardless, it was too late now; the notice had appeared in all of the papers, both about the engagement and the date and time of the wedding at St. Paul’s.
He would not allow theTonto laugh at him for being jilted.
Wickham stepped forward and placed a length of twine around Miss Elizabeth’s fourth finger of her left hand. He marked it and then withdrew after requesting she give him the ring.
“How soon?” the Duke enquired.
“The day before the wedding, Your Grace,” Wickham replied.
“Who will give you away, your father or your uncle?” the Duke demanded.
