There was an influx of money that for the life of her she could not explain, and the normally excessively loquacious Sir William would tell her naught about their apparent, rather substantial increase in income. What she did not know is that while Charlotte was living at Lucas Lodge, she would only keep one hundred pounds of the five hundred per annum that she would receive from her investment made with Gardiner and Associates. The balance would be turned over to her father. Even though she had invested her money less than three months prior, she had recently received the funds for the first quarter in the sum of one hundred five and twenty pounds. She kept the five and twenty and gave the rest to her father on condition that he not share the source of the added income with anyone, her mother included.
Lady Lucas was still smarting from the descriptions of Gardiner House that Maria had imparted after her return home. It was bad enough that even the Gardiners were higher than them now. The descriptions of their Portman Square house left her green with envy. Then to rub salt in her wounds, Charlotte returned from Bennet House stating that if anything it was more palatial than the Gardiner’s house. If Sarah Lucas was envious and resentful before, after hearing about Bennet House from Charlotte, the envy was immeasurable.
There was one thing she could truly not comprehend, the lack of boasting from Fanny Bennet. In the past her friend, well rival and friend, would boast about anything, even contrived things, and Fanny, along with her sister Hattie Phillips, used to be two of Meryton’s most prolific and indecorous gossips. Yet that had stopped as if someone had turned off a spigot from one day to the next.
Not only was there not one word of boasting from Fanny Bennet, but her sister Hattie had stopped as well. Mrs Phillips was three years older than her sister and seven years more so than her brother Edward. She would still make vulgar utterances, but even those were now few and far between.
The mistress of Lucas Lodge was fuming. She had received a letter from the object of her envy a few days previously where she had mentioned Jane’s betrothal and Eliza’s courtship. She had mentioned it almost in passing and had not expanded on the subject other than the statement of fact. Fanny never mentioned their social calendar, the calls, the Bedford-Jersey-Matlock ball, none of it. The only way that she learnt of everything else was by reading the reports of theon-ditfrom Town in the gossip rags. No, Lady Lucas could not understand the changes that had come over her friend and rival.
Earlier that day she had run into Mrs Hill, Longbourn’s housekeeper, as she and the fellow housekeepers from the newly named Bennet Fields and Bennet Park ran errands in preparations for the wedding and the family’s return to Meryton. Mrs Hill had stated that the Bennets would be home before the last day of the month to prepare for the wedding that would be on the fifteenth day of June. Hill would not mention the other families who would be present to witness the oldest Bennet daughter’s nuptials, but it was well known that the two estates besides Longbourn would host the guests as extensive renovations were still being undertaken to the manor house at that estate.
Charlotte Collins was sitting on her bed in the chambers that she shared with Maria. Now that her younger brother John was fourteen, he and her older brother Frank, no longer shared a bedchamber. That meant that she, a widow, had to share the chamber with her sixteen-year-old, and not most sensible, sister.
The widow Collins was thinking quietly to herself as she had rarely found such a moment. ‘I had thought that it would be quieter at Lucas Lodge, but between Mama’s constant stream of recriminations about that ‘smug’ Fanny Bennet and Maria’s prattle, it has been anything but. I cannot thank Eliza enough for inviting me to join her on her trip to Derbyshire after the wedding. It took me all of two minutes to respond in the affirmative. If there is an option for me not to return to Lucas Lodge for the rest of my mandated mourning period, I will grasp it and hold on with all of my might!’
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It was later that afternoon when a very tired group of ladies flopped down on seats in the family sitting room at Bennet House. Lydia Bennet could still not comprehend the amount of clothing that had been ordered for her. Mama had not exaggerated, they had ordered her a new wardrobe complete with everything from head to toe, and all very appropriate for a girl not yet sixteen or out in society. Their mother had ordered two gowns each that were quite fancy when compared to the rest for both Kitty and Lydia. One would be worn at Jane’s pre-wedding ball, which they were being allowed to attend along with Georgie, Tiffany, and Loretta. They would only be allowed to dance with males in the family, and would have to retire after supper. The second gown was for Jane’s wedding.
The girls sat gushing over all of Lydia’s new clothing. The first fittings would be before they departed town to return to Longbourn. One of Madame’s senior seamstresses would be sent to Longbourn with all of Lydia’s new gowns and dresses for the final fitting, and while there, they would make any needed adjustments to the garments. She would then stay until the day of the wedding to make sure that none of Jane’s trousseau or her wedding gown needed any repair or adjustment.
Yes, there were distinct advantages to being part owners of the shop!
Chapter 21
On a warm Kent morning, just shy of the four-week courtship imposed by Lord Matlock, Mr Ian Ashby was shown into the drawing room at Rosings Park by the butler. If Lady Catherine had walked into that same drawing room at that instant, she would not have recognised the lady sitting therein. She was a very pretty picture of health and poise and was none other than her daughter, Anne, the owner and mistress of the estate.
“Good morning, Ian,” the woman very much in love greeted the man who had given her his heart in return. “I trust that all is well with you today.”
“It could be better, Anne, but that depends on our conversation we need to have,” he replied as he approached her. “If you would grant me the time, there is a particular question that I would like to ask you,” he murmured and Anne was taken aback by the smouldering look of love on his countenance.
“I am at your disposal, Ian,” she replied in a soft, breathy voice, and with a nod she dismissed her companion. Anne felt an excessively jubilant sense of expectation as her Ian went down onto one knee in front of her and took her hands in his own.
“Anne Rachel de Bourgh, over the last months that I have gotten to know you I have fallen deeply in love with you. My love for you is fulsome and will be constant until the day that I draw my final breath. You complete me, Anne; you make me a better man and I will make it my aim in life to make sure that you never repine the day that we met.
“I could enumerate your qualities for many an hour, but if I did, I would never get to the most important of questions. Please end my days as a bachelor and consent to marry me.” He waited, watching her for any sign she still had doubts. At first, in her overwhelming euphoria, all Anne could do was to nod vigorously while tears of joys dropped from her light blue eyes.
“Is that yes, Anne?” he asked as he reached into his pocket and withdrew a ring box.
“A decided and vehementYES, Ian. I will marry you; I too love you. I think I have from the first moment we met. You have made me the happiest woman in the land,” Anne admitted. Joy emanated from her in a way she had never experienced before. Not two years ago, before Mrs Jenkinson overheard the conversation between the despicable Lady Catherine and her quack, she did not believe she would be alive when she turned five and twenty, and now she had her whole life ahead of her and a man she not only loved but who loved her in return and to whom she was now betrothed.
He slid a gold ring down her finger, her eyes widening at the large, brilliant diamond circled by a ring of small but deep red and matching rubies.
“When would you like to marry, Anne? Richard and Jane will wed in a little over two weeks, and following they will be on a wedding trip. What say you to the end of July or beginning of August?” he asked hopefully.
“I would marry you tomorrow but that would create quite a scandal until I did not birth a babe less than nine months after the wedding,” Anne joked. “Let us go look at the calendar in the study and then we can pick a day. I would like to marry on a Friday, if it is all the same to you,” she stated.
“Whichever day you choose will be the day. Lead the way, my love.” Ian smiled; glad she had the same sentiments he did.
The newly betrothed couple stepped into the study and looked at the two mentioned months. Anne chose, and her fiancée agreed to, the seventh day of August. It would ensure her cousin Richard and his then wife would have returned from their wedding trip.
As he had Lord Matlock’s consent and blessing already, there was no need for Ashby to ride to town to seek an audience with the Earl. Anne sat down and composed an express to her aunt and uncle to be delivered to Matlock House by her personal courier, as soon as it was completed and she had sanded and dried her missive.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
Reginald Fitzwilliam thanked Darling for the express, which the man had just placed in his hand. He strongly suspected that he knew what the missive contained, so he smiled even as he broke the seal.
30 May 1812
