The Longs had adopted their two nieces four years past when their parents, —Long’s brother and his sister-in-law—had been taken by a virulent fever while the girls were visiting their aunt and uncle near Meryton. The girls were namedMandy, who was ten, and Cara, who was seven. The older girl was Mary Bennet’s closest friend while the younger was very close to Kate, Maria Lucas, and Lyddie.
All the while, Bennet did anything he could to improve Longbourn’s income, and therefore, he sent as much as possible of the profit to Gardiner. The latter and his wife, Maddie, were very close to their nieces. The two had married on the final Saturday of July 1796. Beginning when Jane was ten and Lizzy eight, they would spend a month during the winter with the Gardiners, and their aunt and uncle spent some time at Longbourn three or four times each year. Mary also began to travel to London when she was eight, and it was no surprise that all five of Bennet’s daughters loved the Gardiners deeply.
For almost four years there had been no sign of Maddie falling with child. Hattie had commiserated with her as she understood the pain of having no children. That had all changed when Maddie delivered a girl in April 1800 who was named Lillian after her late mother. She was called Lilly by all.
Rather than Hattie being jealous, she was happy to have one more niece to love. She and Phillips spent as much time as possible with their local nieces, and like they did the Gardiners, the Bennet sisters loved Aunt Hattie and Uncle Frank.
Due in large part to the love his daughters received from their aunts, Bennet’s girls never asked about why they had no Mama like their friends, nor did they seem to miss someone in that role in their lives at all. Even though Hattie loved to gossip and was mean of understanding, Bennet encouraged contact between her and his daughters. She loved them unconditionally and unlike her late sister, she was not conniving, dishonourable, or vicious.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
William Collins had entered the seminary in Westerhama year after his sire had drowned in his drunken state. He was debating whether or not he should inform his Bennet cousin, the one who had stolen the family estate from the Collins line, about the death of his father. To that end, during the 1802 Easter term break, he returned to his house in Faversham and sought the advice of his mentor about a question which had been plaguing him.
Mr Davidson had advised him that it was the right thing to do. Collins had been reluctant to write to the man his father broke with, but as he was advised to write, he decided to do so.
Before he left the parsonage, Mr Davidson informed Collins that the man who had purchased all of his late father’s farmland was willing to purchase the house and the remaining small parcel of land. As it would mean that Collins would no longer have to pay wages for a manservant and maid to look after the house, he told the rector to pass along that he was willing to sell.
He would use some of the money to rent some rooms close to the seminary in Westerham. He then made his way home to write his letter. It was posted the next morning, and he gave the seminary as his return direction as he knew not where he would be.
Before he returned to Westerham, the sale had been completed and he added five hundred pounds to his money.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
Life had been going along following predictable patterns until Bennet’s peace was disturbed by a series of letters.
When Bennet saw the name of the writer of the first one, he was about to consign the letter from Collins to the fire. That was until he read the name of the sender again. It was from William Collins, and it was not in the hand of the man who had written letters for Bennet’s illiterate bully of a cousin. Becauseof this, he decided to open and read the missive.
13 April 1802
Church of England Seminary
Westerham
Kent
Mr Bennet:
Even though my father decided to break with you, and your family have kept us Collinses from our birthright for so many years, I flatter myself that I am doing the right thing by writing to you now, no matter how undeserving of my notice you are.
It is my sad duty to notify you that my honoured father went to his final reward in February of the previous year.
My late father informed me that, as is right, your wife only provided you with 4 daughters, which means that you will not be able to keep my birthright from me like Bennets before you have done by cheating my family out of what is rightfully ours.
When I am ordained and become a clergyman, I will be far above you in society. I was told how the Bennets looked down on us Collinses. Well, no more. It will be my turn to look down on you!
Your cousin,
William Clem Collins
This Collins could write, but he had no more sense than his late father. There were so many fallacies in the letter that Bennet debated whether or not to write back to the man.
As he cogitated, a thought struck him. ‘If I stick to my determination never to remarry, a buffoon like this will have Longbourn and undo all of the work I have done to make the income what it is. Is it not incumbent on me to remarry andprotect the estate and all of those dependent on her? Could I leave my tenants to the mercy of such a man? Of course, there is no guarantee he will outlive me.’
When he considered local marriage aged women, the only one who would be vaguely acceptable to him would be Charlotte Lucas, who would be nineteen on her next birthday. The problem with that was that he saw her as no more than Jane’s and Lizzy’s friend. He would never be happy in a marriage of convenience. Better that he take a step back, not allow this Collins to affect him in this way, or to overset all of his resolutions and plans.
It was time to write back to the dunderhead. He would think of the future later.
He took up his accoutrements for writing after placing some fresh paper in front of him.
