“My dear, at the time you were soon to be wed, and your thoughts were entirely occupied. It is quite possible you heard the story, but the excitement of that season must have driven it from your recollection.”
Mrs Phillips’s reply was gracious, though it lacked truth. Like her sister, Mrs Bennet never forgot a morsel of good gossip.
“Pray, Aunt Phillips—continue,” Mary entreated, and again the company looked at her in wonder. Never before had she shown such interest, and her manner declared she was determined to hear more.
“There was a certain French gentleman, a friend of old Mr Barrington. He came to Meryton and stayed but a fortnight. I cannot remember his name…if I have ever known it. He was not seen in the town or neighbourhood thereafter. Do you know Miss Emmeline’s age?”
“Yes, we discussed about that,” answered Jane, “less than a year older than me.”
“Then we may fix the time precisely—”
Mrs Phillips halted abruptly and exchanged a glance with her sisters.
“Do go on,” urged Mrs Gardiner. “We have resolved that the surest protection for a young lady’s virtue is a full knowledge of the perils.”
“Indeed, that is wisely said,” replied Mrs Phillips, looking at Mrs Bennet. “That very French gentleman—whose name we do not know—must have been in Meryton around March or April…and you were married at Christmas that year.”
The young ladies reacted to this declaration in various ways.
Elizabeth, Jane, and Mary blushed, their thoughts straying unwillingly to what may have transpired that spring. Lydia stared unabashedly, eager for every detail, while Kitty watched Lydia, as ever her model.
“Yes, my dear daughters,” said Mrs Bennet, with solemnity. “Our mother said as much to us. Be wary of all gentlemen, even those who appear modest or timid or insecure in company. In private, they are not to be trusted.”
“Indeed, Jenny is quite correct,” Mrs Phillips said. “I remember how Mama reacted one Sunday after services. She bade us sit and, in a grave tone, said that Sophia had not heeded the principles of a well-bred young lady. All of Meryton had begun to whisper of the…protuberance…Sophia exhibited. Mama wished to believe it the consequence of indulgence—she was a kind soul—but she nevertheless delivered a stern lecture on propriety and honour, that chief treasure of any young woman.”
Mrs Gardiner listened attentively. Her own mother had never spoken so plainly; when she married Mr Gardiner, she scarcely understood how children were begotten. But her daughters would not endure such ignorance. She wasdetermined that they would be as well-prepared for life as Lizzy and Jane.
“And but a few days later, Mrs Barrington and Sophia vanished. Of course, that confirmed all suspicions.”
“And they never returned?” Jane asked softly.
“Never. They severed all ties with the town. The house was sold some years later. Mr Phillips managed the transaction himself. He was due to travel to Southampton to obtain Mr Barrington’s signature but finally the documents were signed in London.”
“And you told me nothing!”
Her mother’s reproach rang so emphatically that Elizabeth felt bound to intervene. “Mama, Aunt Phillips could not speak of Uncle Phillips’s affairs.”
Mrs Phillips cast her a look of gratitude.A clever girl, she thought.
“But now you may speak—”
“Jenny, let her finish,” Mrs Gardiner said kindly. “We are grateful that she confides in us.”
“I never speak of my husband’s work. But this is long past, and I sense there is some deeper reason for your enquiry.”
“Indeed,” said Elizabeth. “There is a gentleman—Colonel Fitzwilliam—whom I met at Rosings this spring. He is soon to marry Miss Emmeline Henry. We learnt this from Lady Matlock, his mother, whom we encountered at Pemberley. If Miss Henry is indeed Sophia’s daughter, the coincidence would be remarkable. She is of the proper age—”
“And her given name is French,” added Mrs Bennet.
“It is not,” replied Elizabeth. “Upon meeting her, I made an enquiry. Emmeline is also an English name.”
“And her surname is Henry,” Jane said.
“OrAnri,” Mary said. “In French, it is pronouncedAnri. Many French kings bore the name.”
“The girl is correct,” Mrs Phillips said. “And she speaks French well.”
“Yes, Mary and Elizabeth possess some French, thanks to Mr Bennet. My husband speaks not only French, but also Italian and Latin,” Mrs Bennet said, now eager to extol her husband’s learning and accomplishments.
