THE DUKE OF HERTFORDSHIRE SHOT DEAD!
William had been closest to her and before either knewwhat they were about they were hugging. When they realised what they were doing, in front of everyone present no less, Elizabeth and William stepped back from one another.
It was clear the rest of the party wanted their share of wishing Elizabeth well on her freedom. After William stepped back, Elizabeth was surrounded by her four sisters. None was more gleeful than Lydia, and not only because she would be able to see the Castle. Lizzy was free and would never have to seehimagain.
“I know we are not supposed to feel jubilation at the death of any person, but I find I care not,” Lydia insisted. “That man deserved what he got.”
There was not a single voice in the room that said a word in disagreement with the sentiments Lydia expressed. In fact, Lord Matlock and Darcy separately were sorry he was gone for one reason only. Each of them would have liked to have been the man who ended the stain on humanity the late Duke represented.
“Lizzy, you are free!” Jane exclaimed.
“Yes, yes! I most certainly am,” Elizabeth gushed as she accepted a joint hug from Mary—who would turn fifteen on the morrow—and Kate.
“This being the first day of April, rather than someone pranking our Lizzy, she has been given the best gift anyone could ever conceive,” Gardiner remarked. Those who heard him nodded their emphatic agreement.
While Lady Elizabeth was being hugged by her sisters who were soon replaced by her aunts and uncles, William picked up the paper and read the article accompanying the headline. “What George Wickham informed us of in his letter was nothing but the truth. The reporter’s writing corroborates whathe wrote,” William stated to no one in particular once he had completed reading the words on the broadsheet.
“My steward received a letter from his son telling of his intention to leave England in which the son begged his father’s pardon for his past misdeeds,” Darcy revealed after they had heard what William said was revealed in the article.
“I am happy for Mr. Wickham,” Lady Anne commented. “At long last he can feel proud about his son’s actions.” She turned to her son. “William, it does not mention anything regarding my friend being harmed does it?”
“She was not harmed, Mother. According to this Lady Sarah was away from the house with her daughter when her husband, son, and some of their men detected the intruder. They only discovered who it was after he had been shot to stop him from shooting one of them,” William averred.
The Darcy father and son, who normally found disguise abhorrent, shared a look which told of their being sanguine with it in this case.
“I wonder if Bennet has seen this yet?” Philips said to his brother. “He will not be happy as he knows what the added clauses to the settlement are and how the Duke’s death before the birth of an heir will affect his big plan for the entail to be broken.”
“Who cares what Bennet thinks,” Gardiner spat out. His anger over Bennet not protecting his daughter had not diminished. “However, I am in anticipation of knowing the details of the provisions Lizzy had added,” Gardiner stated.
“Once the celebration calms, I will do as Lizzy asked and reveal all,” Philips assured his brother.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
Thomas Bennet was not feeling very well. He was sure it had nothing to do with the volume of spirits he was drinking. It had been some months now since he had ceased bothering with port as it had become like drinking water and had no dulling effect on him at all.
For a few days now his skin felt very clammy, he would lose consciousness at various times, at other times he felt rather confused, and he had been nauseous not a few times each day. He practically lived in his study, and even though he had his manservant keep the fire in his study built high, of late he had begun to feel cold all the time. Also, the few times he got out of his chair, he felt rather light-headed.
Bennet had for nigh on four months drank whisky, brandy, and gin exclusively. For more than two months now, he had been consuming at least two bottles of the cheapest drink he could find each day.
To support his habits and prop up the estate—given for some time now their income did not meet the expenses any longer—Bennet had withdrawn more and more funds from the principal which made up Fanny’s dowry of five thousand pounds. His intention to replace the money was long forgotten.
In his state of confusion, he had paid for things multiple times and had indulged in purchasing some very expensive sets of first editions. Between all of his mismanagement and indulgences, there was less than one thousand pounds of his wife’s fortune remaining. As he cared not for her present or her future, he never for one moment considered the impact on his wife of what he had done.
He had no idea what the malaise he was suffering from was. To dull his senses, Bennet consumed more and more of the spirits to try and make himself feel better. On the other hand, he was eating very little solid food. He could not remember the lasttime he had bathed, and his beard and whiskers were evidence of the fact he had not been shaved for weeks.
Given his and his wife’s ostracization from local society and the fact no one would deign to call on them, the only way news of the outside world was made known to him was when he chose to read the newspaper. TheTimes of Londonwas delivered each day it was printed, but he did not read the news as diligently as he had in the past.
Reaching over to the pile of unread newspapers, Bennet happened to pull this past Monday’s edition from the four editions that lay untidily on his desk.
He unfolded the paper and saw the large print headline staring back at him. It took him much effort to focus and be able to read what it said. Even after reading it several times, it took some minutes before his brain communicated the meaning of the information before him in a way he was able to understand.
He rang the bell for Hill. The man looked greatly surprised when he entered the study as it had been some considerable time since the master had summoned him thither. “Hill,” Bennet slurred, “bring my wife.”
Hill gave a curt bow and went to summon the mistress who was ensconced in her bedchamber. It had been some months since she had taken to her chambers and remained there.
“The master requires you attend him in the study,” Hill conveyed.
Fanny had thought to refuse, but it had been so long since she had been invited into her husband’s sanctuary, she decided to see what it was he wanted. She had her maid assist her to dress and put her hair up in a simple coiffure—something she had not done in many weeks.
