~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
For the rest of 1806, Henry worked with the two Wickhams and his two other under-stewards to prepare the estate to be without him for most of the foreseeable future.
In early December of that year, Henry departed for Netherfield Park.
Chapter 9
For Christmas Day, which had recently passed, Henry had invited his Longbourn family to spend the holy day at Netherfield Park. As he had expected, Fanny had refused; however, her three middle daughters accompanied the Gardiners to be with him. Phillips would have joined them, but his wife had loudly demanded they remain at Longbourn.
It had been an easy decision for Gardiner and Maddie because Fanny did not hide her feelings about young children running around her home. By December 1807, Eddy was eleven and Lilly was almost eight. May, born in November 1801, was six, and the youngest Gardiner, Peter, was three. Due to Gardiner’s sister’s claims that the noise and rambunctiousness of the Gardiner children caused her nerves to afflict her, the Gardiners had remained at Netherfield Park rather than returning to Longbourn after Christmas. They had departed after Twelfth Night to return to their home in London.
With his nephew’s permission, contrary to Thomas’s wife’s desire, Lizzy, Mary, and Kitty had remained at Netherfield Park with the Gardiners.
Of course, in true Fanny fashion, she blamed Henry forstealingher family members just as he would Longbourn when her husband met hisimminentend. She had, of course, ignored how she had complained about the children while they had been with her and the fact she had refused the invitation to join them.
Unsurprisingly for his part, Thomas had relished theincreased peace and quiet in his home. Except for attending Christmas services at church, and for meals, Thomas remained in his study as far from the noise generated by his wife and youngest daughter as possible. Henry would never fathom that a man could be so disinterested in his family while at the same time ridiculing his wife and youngest daughter at every turn and never doing anything to correct them.
Having Lizzy back at Netherfield Park, even if it had been only for about ten days, had infused life and joy into the house once again. It was not that there had been a sense of melancholy; there had not been. It was Lizzy’sjoie de vivrewhich seeped into the very bones of the house. Henry’s pleasure at having her in residence was increased by the presence of Mary and Kitty. He had come to appreciate his third and fourth great-nieces over the years. So much so that in the last year he had made a small change to his will. He had doubled the amount Mary would have while bequeathing Kitty the same amount as Mary.
With the big house empty except for himself, the staff, and servants, Henry decided it was time to have the needed conversation with his nephew.
On the second Monday of January 1807, Henry ordered his carriage and gave the coachman Longbourn as the destination. As it always did, the three miles between the manor houses passed quickly. Snow had fallen beginning just before Christmas and on and off since a few days past. The drive leading to Longbourn’s manor house was covered in a layer of snow, except for the tracks which had been left by arriving and departing conveyances.
After divesting him of his outerwear, Hill announced Henry to his master.
“Uncle Henry, to what do I owe thispleasure?” Bennet asked annoyedly. He disliked being interrupted when he read.
“You know, Nephew, I have heard it said that sarcasm isthe lowest form of wit,” Henry responded. He did not wait to be invited to sit; he chose one of the seats before Thomas’s desk. He ignored the sour look on his nephew’s countenance.
Bennet chastised himself. He knew that Uncle Henry always saw through him, so why had he attempted to use something on him which would have worked on Fanny? “My question still stands. What is it I can do for you, Uncle?” He sat back in his chair and waited for his uncle’s response.
“I was going to wait until my birthday in May, but I think I would like to take up residence in the dower house as of the beginning of March coming.” Henry raised his hand when he saw Thomas was about to protest. “Allow me to remind you of the agreement we struck when I funded the repair and renovation of the dower house. You do not want to renege now, do you?”
“You were serious about that?” Bennet had hoped his uncle would never exercise his right to take up residence in the dower house.
“I would not have made that part of our agreement had I not been,” Henry returned. “I will be eight and sixty in May, and like any mortal, I know not how much longer God will grant me in the mortal world. Is it so hard for you to grasp that as the sun begins to set on my life, I would want to be close to family and living on the land where I was born? Also, I have expended enough money on Netherfield Park and have already paid for the dower house, so yes, that is what I want.”
“My wife will be seriously displeased,” Bennet pleaded.
“That, Thomas, is a problem entirely of your own making. No one but you has chosen to allow Fanny to remain in her fantasy world where I would outlive you, or if I did, I would do anything to eject her from this estate. Lord knows with her behaviour, it would be a possibility, but if I was alive after you, as I have told you many times, your wife or any unmarried daughters would have nothing to fear fromme.” Henry paused for a moment to cogitate. “As you know, your late father and I were not close, and I did not know your mother well. That being said, I knew them both enough to know that they would not be proud of the man you have become or the way you allowed Longbourn to fall from its place of prominence in the neighbourhood.”
What Henry did not tell his nephew was that during the time Gardiner had been at Netherfield Park with him from Christmas until he and his family returned to London, Henry had requested Gardiner use his contacts to investigate and discover the Taylor family in the Americas. He was sure that Felicity, if she were still alive—she was six years his senior—would not know that if she had sons, one of them, or one of their sons, would be the heir presumptive of Longbourn.
“Then I take it you are determined to move to the dower house?” Bennet verified.
“I am,” Henry confirmed succinctly. “For an intelligent man, that is not a very clever question. Do you truly believe I would come here and tell you what my intention is for no reason? Unlike you, I do not say things just so that I am able to provoke anamusingreaction in someone.”
It felt to Bennet like he was sitting opposite his late father as a young boy and being chastised. As much as he hated to admit it, nothing his uncle said was untrue. Knowing that and changing his behaviour were two very different things.
“While I am here, there is something else of which I would like to speak.” Henry did not wait for Thomas to give him permission to proceed. “Lizzy will be sixteen in less than two months, and I am not getting younger. I have made Lizzy my heir. If I go to my eternal reward before she reaches her majority, I would like you to sign this agreement that transfers her guardianship to Gardiner. Remember, it is only if I am no longer in the mortal world.” Henry slid the document across the desk to his nephew.
Bennet looked at it suspiciously. “Unless I am wrong, your estate will not be substantial, so why do you feel the need for this? Also, why pass over Jane, who is the eldest?”
“If Lizzy has not reached her majority, even if whatever of my funds are left are held in trust, would you, and especially your wife, not harangue Lizzy for funds? Regardless of the amount, would you not try and have Lizzy buy books and port for you? That would be nothing to Fanny, demanding that whatever it is be used for her to fritter away and to be given to her favourites. You know it is true. It is for that reason Jane is not my heir. She is a good girl, but she cannot stand up to her mother. She would willingly hand over whatever it is to Fanny, or for that matter, you. No, Jane is too biddable to be my heir.”
He could not argue with his uncle’s logic. Making Jane the heir would be handing the amount, no matter how small, to Fanny. A little voice in his head whispered, ‘And to you too!’ Bennet would not look at his uncle.
“You have chosen not to worry about your daughters’ futures, but that does not mean I will leave Lizzy unprotected.” There was nothing Henry said which was not true. Of one thing he was sure: if Thomas had an inkling of his wealth, he would not sign, or he would only have done so after a very substantial price had been exacted for his cooperation.
