Slowly, but surely, the Taylors at Purvis Lodge were getting used to life in England. One thing they appreciated greatly was that there was far less, almost none in fact, humidity compared to what there had been in the Territory of Mississippi. The heat in July in Hertfordshire was so much more pleasant, making the Taylors feel like it was early in the springtime where they had last lived.
The one thing the girls of the family adamantly refused to do was learn to ride a side-saddle. Seeing their Bennet cousins perched atop the saddles had firmed their opinions that the contraptions were invented by a man who hated women. They did accept that breeches worn by a female were unacceptable in their new country, but they were sanguine with the split-skirt riding habits the dressmaker in Meryton had created for them. Since they had been supplied with their new riding clothing, the Taylor sisters were no longer restricted to riding on Purvis Lodge’s or Longbourn’s land only.
When Lizzy began to ride the same way, most of the comments made by other ladies in Meryton, hiding their mouths behind their hands as they spoke, ceased. They could no longer ascribe females riding astride to a savagery of those who had been raised in the wilds of the former colonies and American territories.
The Bennet and Taylor cousins—sans Lydia—would often meet at Longbourn’s dower house to spend time with Uncle Henry and Aunt Felicity, or in the Taylors’ case, Gammy.
One afternoon, some months after the initial meeting between the Bennet parents and the Taylors, all of the family from Purvis lodge, and the four eldest Bennet sisters were taking tea at the dower house. Lola, Kitty, Felix, Eddy, Lilly, and Lil were outside enjoying the warm summer weather. Kitty,with Lilly and Lil to assist her, were in the stables attending to Cleopatra and her latest litter of kittens.
Over the months since they had met, Felix and Lil had been hosted by the Gardiners in London once, and now the two eldest Gardiner children were with the Taylors at Purvis Lodge for a few weeks.
Felix was very excited, as he had been enrolled at Eton and would begin there with Eddy. Since spending so much time together, the two had become the best of friends.
Henry and Felicity were hosting the rest of the Taylors and the three eldest Bennet sisters in the drawing room. Felicity had ceded the duties of pouring tea and providing the pastries and tea cakes to her daughter-in-law. For the first time, she was truly feeling her eight and seventy years.
Once everyone had had their tea and treats, Elizabeth cleared her throat. “Since that first meeting at Longbourn with the Taylors, Mama has been rather subdued,” she reported. Her two sisters in the room nodded their agreement.
“Has she had any of hernervousattacks of late?” Henry asked.
“Not one,” Jane responded. “My hope is that now that she knows she will never be thrown into the dreaded hedgerows, she is a lot calmer. I would like to think that the way Aunts Felicity and Debby confronted Mama regarding her behaviour may have given her something on which to think. That also could be my former desire to only see good asserting itself.” Since she had the epiphany regarding her mother and her own way of dealing with the world, a never-before-seen self-deprecating humour had emerged as Jane changed her character.
Those who had known Jane before chuckled. Seeing her aunts, uncle, and cousins looking on questioningly, Mary explained. She was seated next to Roger, which for some reason, they always ended up seated next to or close to oneanother.
In the months since meeting Roger, Mary had to admit, if so far only to herself, that she was developing tender feelings for her third cousin. She knew that he was not indifferent to her, but so far, other than always seeking out her company, he had not spoken of any intent to pursue her as his future wife. Mary prayed that it would be so one day.
“Lizzy, today I received a letter which Mrs Bellamy told me is from an old friend of mine who you have met, the Earl of Matlock. Will you read it to us? I am sure there is nothing within which is private, as all of you here are privy to all of my secrets,” Henry requested. “I miss my secretary, but I understood his need to go care for his ailing parents. With Felicity and all my family around me, I did not feel the need to replace him.”
“By asking you, mymuch youngerbrother is being kind to me; he knows that my eyesight is not what it used to be,” Felicity stated with a smile.
“Uncle Henry is aware that it is always my pleasure to be of assistance.” Elizabeth stood and took the letter from the table next to Uncle Henry. She broke the Matlock seal and began to read.
17 July 1811
Snowhaven, Derbyshire
Bennet,
If we are not imposing, we would like to take you up on your offer to host us if we were ever in the area. If it is agreeable to you, we plan to arrive the Friday before Michaelmas, the 27th of the month of September, and if you are able to host us, we will remain for a fortnight until we make for London.
We have an ulterior motive, besides your scintillating company, that is. As you own theproperty, I am sure you are aware that a Mr Charles Bingley will take up residence at Netherfield Park on the 17th of the same month. My youngest son Richard and nephew, William Darcy, will be part of the Bingley party.
Why, do you ask, would we not be hosted at that estate? The answer is simple. Miss Caroline Bingley! A more grasping, high-in-the-instep, social climbing, fortune hunter you have never had the misfortune to meet. Andrew will be with us, and, much to Elaine’s consternation, at the age of 31, he is yet to find a woman he will agree to marry. He has been avoiding women of Miss Bingley’s ilk for many years, and like Elaine and me, he refuses to be introduced to the harridan. In addition, you are aware that Anna Darcy is our ward, and we have no desire for Miss Bingley, who has set her cap for my nephew, to meet her.
The reason we and Andrew refuse the introduction to the harpy is that she will use our names to be invited to events in London to which the daughter of a tradesman would not be admitted. As you know from my friendship with Gardiner and how much I have invested with him, I have no objection to those earning an honest living in trade. We simply abhor Miss Bingley’s behaviour.
By the by, before I forget to mention it, Anna (who cannot wait to see your great-nieces again) and her companion, Mrs Younge (Yes, it is the same Miss Younge who was her governess. As a companion, it is preferable she be Mrs.) will be with us, so there will be five of us.
“Anna will be here!” Elizabeth and Mary chorused as soon as the former finished reading the paragraph.
The Taylors all looked on quizzically. Jane was aware ofthe friendship and the correspondence by letter but had never met Miss Darcy. She was pleased she would finally meet the young lady who was a friend to her next three younger sisters.
“Anna is a good friend to Mary, Kitty, and me,” Elizabeth explained. “We met her in London some years ago, and I saw her in Derbyshire, but the rest of our friendship has been conducted via the post. Like Mary and me, Kitty will be inordinately pleased that Anna will be here.” She went back to the letter.
Richard and William tolerate her machinations, but neither will gratify her even if she attempts a compromise. I should warn you that, based on what my son and William have reported, Bingley is not a resolute man. In fact, he is rather capricious and easily led by his younger sister.
I remember something Richard said. Mr Bingley falls in and out of love rather easily. He is not, from what my son said, a rake, but rather very immature and does not consider the consequences of raising and not fulfilling expectations. The women he ‘falls in love’ with are of a certain type: blonde, blue-eyed, very pretty, and willowy.
All eyes in the room turned to both Jane and Elli who, from the description of the looks Lord Matlock described, fit rather perfectly.
