“I thank you, my Lord. I much prefer the country to Town which is why I jumped at this opportunity when it came available,” Henry replied. “I would feel sympathy for the previous master, but it was his choice to play games of chance for high stakes. It was not like he was forced to make the poor decisions he did. In my mind, gambling is a quick way to separate a fool and his money.”
“You have the right of it,” Darcy agreed. “Do you have family with you at Sherwood Dale?”
“I do have family, but none here with me. My nephew is the master of the family’s estate in Hertfordshire. I was a second son who went into the world to seek my fortune,” Henry revealed. He felt comfortable with the two men. Justthen a memory came to him. “Lord Matlock, your family name is Fitzwilliam, is it not?”
The Earl allowed it was so.
“My late brother married an Elizabeth Rose Fitzwilliam. As far as I knew, she was not from a noble family,” Henry related.
“She was a third cousin to me. I did not realise she had married a Bennet in Hertfordshire,” Lord Matlock responded. “The branches of our family were not very close. I assume there was a child, or children, from the match, as you are not master of your ancestral estate.”
“Indeed, they had one son, Thomas Bennet. He is married, and his wife is increasing. She thinks she will deliver by January.” Henry paused. “His wife is, to put it politely, not the most intelligent creature, so if I were you, I would not want her to know that the Bennets are connected to an earl, regardless of how tenuous the connection.”
“I will bear that in mind,” Lord Matlock responded. “She would not be the first coattail relative to attempt to trade on the connection.”
“If you do not feel I am prying into your personal affairs, what brought you to this point, Mr Bennet? As you say you are a second son,” Darcy enquired. “There are not too many second sons who are able to purchase an estate like this one, even at reduced cost.”
“Please address me as Bennet; as long as my nephew is not here, there will be no confusion. I do not object to the question,” Henry allowed. “I went to seek my fortune in India, and I found it. In the last year, I felt like it was time to return to England, and I did so.” There was nothing he said which was not true; he just omitted the scope of his wealth. Even though Henry felt like he could become friends with these men, there was no need for them to know he was wealthier than if they combined their wealth.
“In that case, I am Matlock, and my brother-in-law is Darcy. The time for our call has passed, but I trust we will see you again soon.” Matlock stood and extended his hand.
Henry shook hands with both men, before his butler escorted them out.
He was thankful he had employed an experienced English valet in London. Over the years he had lived at Longbourn East, his mode of dress had adapted to India and become decidedly casual. Oftentimes at home, he would don the white flowing garb some of the local men wore, which made it much more comfortable in the heat and humidity of the area. His new valet, Mr Aaron Rouse, had directed Henry in his purchases of new clothing. Each morning, Mr Rouse made sure Henry was turned out as would be expected of a well-turned-out gentleman, but nothing like a dandy.
Over the next fortnight, Henry met many of the estate owners with land close to him in both Nottinghamshire and Derbyshire. Some of the men he could tolerate better than others, but he was not as comfortable with any of them as he was with Matlock and Darcy.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
The first estate Henry called on in return was Pemberley. Once the coach crested a rise in the miles-long drive, he was treated to a view of the valley and the house. He decided that a man would have to travel far to see a more aesthetically pleasing estate. As one who had not attempted to tame nature in India, Henry was impressed at the way the Darcys obviously had a healthy respect for nature and did not try to counteract it with the awkward tastes of man.
His horses drew the carriage under aporte cochèreinto an internal courtyard. From close up, the five-storey house looked even more impressive. As soon as his conveyance came to a halt, a Darcy footman in green and gold livery placed the step and opened the door.
Henry made his way to the broad stone steps which led to a door where a man he assumed was the butler was waiting for him.
“Mr Henry Bennet, returning Mr Darcy’s call,” Henry stated. He handed the butler his card.
“The master expected a call from you, Sir. Please follow me,” the retainer requested after he had relieved the gentleman of his outerwear.
Having seen the Taj Mahal and some of the other palaces in India during the years he lived in that country, Henry was not overly impressed by houses, no matter how grand they were. He was, however, impressed by Pemberley’s manor house. From what he could see as he followed the butler, this house was built as a home and not a museum to the Darcys’ wealth and status.
They entered an entrance hall with vaulted ceilings which rose at least two floors up. There were images of angels painted on the ceiling. Henry wondered if one of the earlier Darcys saw the Sistine Chapel and was inspired to have the painting he could see above him commissioned. He followed the butler to the grand staircase—the steps fabricated from white marble with tendrils of black within—and up to the first floor. They reached the open drawing room doors where the butler announced him and stood back.
“Bennet, welcome to Pemberley,” Darcy enthused as he offered his caller his hand. “May I present my wife and son to you?”
“It would be my honour to meet them.” Henry smiled. Before him was a very pretty lady, with golden blonde hair, deep blue eyes, and rather willowy. Next to her on the settee was a little boy who had his father’s colouring, a darker complexion and very dark, slightly curly hair. Rather than his father’s brown eyes, the boy’s eyes were blue like his mother’s. To Henry, the boy looked like he was fighting to behave like aproper little man.
“Anne and William, I present Mr Henry Bennet, the new master of Sherwood Dale, to you. Bennet, Lady Anne Darcy, my wife, and Fitzwilliam, my son and heir,” Darcy introduced.
It was at times like this Henry felt regrets that he had never found a lady who he desired to marry. Darcy had an heir, and he did not. He had already discounted his nephew as his heir. All he could do was hope Fanny and Thomas Bennet would produce at least one child who would be worthy enough to fill that role.
“Welcome, Mr Bennet,” Lady Anne said with a little hauteur in her voice.
He remembered that she was Matlock’s younger sister. Henry supposed that as the daughter of one earl and sister to another, Lady Anne felt he was beneath her.
“My Papa told me you lived in India,” William asked as he forgot to be proper for a moment. “Did you see tigers? And what about elephants? Papa tells me it is very different than it is here.”
“I did see a tiger from a distance once or twice, but I had the pleasure of riding an elephant a few times. And yes, Master William, your father is very wise; India and England have very little in common,” Henry replied. He did not miss how big the boy’s eyes got when he mentioned riding an elephant.
