~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
When Bennet told Lulu about his owning Netherfield Park, she had been sad it was his because someone had left the mortal world, but she was pleased for her husband-to-be because he deserved all the good which came to him. “That just means that if we have a second son, we will have an estate for him, or if we only have one son, or none, the estate will go to one of your daughters,” she stated.
The engaged couple were seated in the study, with the door wide open. They were sitting on the settee, and were, most unwillingly, maintaining a distance between them for propriety’s sake.
“That is true,” Bennet agreed. “However, if we have no sons, I will find a way to remove Collins from the line of succession, even if I have to initiate a simple recovery.”
“What is that, and why have you not done it already?” Louisa queried.
“It is a way to end the entail and make me the owner instead of a lifetime tenant. I have not attempted it up to now because it is thought of as an ungentlemanlike action. Some even consider it dishonourable,” Bennet explained. “If there is no other choice, then that is what I will have to do; others and their opinions be damned. I cannot, Iwill notallow that simpleton dominion over Longbourn and her people.”
“If that is what you have to do, you know that you will have my unreserved support, do you not, Thomas?”
“I do, Lulu. Let us hope He blesses us with sons so this will become moot. Come, I would like to inform my daughters before my good fortune becomes common knowledge.”
“Thomas, you never knew you were connected to the Morrises by blood?”
“Not even a little. My late mother never mentioned them, and I suspect that, based on what the late Mr Morris wrote, her mother never shared the information with Mother because of the break in the family.”
Bennet stood, extended his hand to Lulu, and helped her stand. They repaired to the drawing room. Bennet decided to relate the news to all who were present, not just his daughters. He and Lulu took a seat on the sofa before Bennet related the tidings he had learnt that day.
There were congratulations, tempered by the fact that Bennet’s good fortune was the result of the death of Mr Morris.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
Even though Collins had tried to explain to the coachman driving the post coach from London what an honour it would be for him to drive onto Rosings Park’s land, the peasant had scoffed at him, and he had been forced to alight at the White Knight Inn in Hunsford. The problem was that it left him a four-mile walk to the parsonage all the while dragging his trunk behind him because he had no more coin left in his pockets.
Collins approached some parishioners to allow them the privilege of conveying him and his trunk back to the parsonage. For some reason, each and every one refused his entreaties. When he threatened to make sure Lady Catherine would ring a peal over their heads for disrespecting her parson, Collins was flabbergasted that, rather than compliance, he was met with derisive laughter.
He could not wait until he reported their disrespect to him, and by extension the great Lady Catherine, to the beneficent lady herself. He was certain his patroness would punish those involved, and he would watch with glee.
Given the very slow pace he was able to manage while pulling his trunk behind him, and the frequent rest breaks, it took him close to three hours before Collins arrived the parsonage. In fact, dusk had already fallen by the time the profusely sweating parson reached his front door.
Rather than a large, comforting meal, he had to satisfy his hunger with bread and cheese, as he had not written ahead to inform his servants of the changes to his travel plans.
That night when Collins eventually crept into his bed, he was cheered by the thought of how Lady Catherine would set everything to rights on the morrow.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
As soon as he saw that Denny and Saunderson had returned from Hertfordshire, Wickham wanted to discover all he could about the town they were moving to in a few short weeks. When he saw the friends make for the tavern they liked to frequent, he followed them in, and as he expected, they invited him to join them.
Denny paid for the ale for all three. Once the tankards were brought to their table, Wickham looked at the two men expectantly. “Well? What can you tell me about the town we are moving to and the people in it?” He enquired.
“It is as we thought, a small market town,” Denny revealed. “Colonel Forster and Captain Carter found a place for the encampment. We officers will not be in tents, except when on duty at night. Rather, we will have rooms in boarding houses around the town. If you want to know about the people, Saunderson here saw more than me. I was sick for two daysbefore we left and missed a soirée where Saunderson said food and grog were plentiful.”
Wickham looked at Saunderson questioningly as he sipped his ale slowly.
“There are a lot of very pretty chits in the town, and they are less suspicious than those in Reading. The most beautiful are a family of five sisters, although only three are out. Unfortunately, they are daughters of a gentleman and all behave with propriety,” Saunderson reported.
‘Like I have before, I will be able to charm the ones not yet out,’ Wickham thought. ‘If only that bastard Darcy had not arrived before I could elope with his sister. Thank goodness, his pride would never allow him to lower himself to frequent some lowly market town in Hertfordshire.’ “Do they have dowries?” Wickham asked aloud.
“They only have two thousand pounds. The highest dowry I heard of was that of a Miss Lucas who also is not out. She is the daughter of the local magistrate, and she has five thousand pounds,” Saunderson responded.
“Not enough to tempt me,” Wickham announced. However, if he could compromise one of the little misses, he would be able to blackmail the family to get the dowry without having to marry the chit. He could use five thousand pounds to escape to the Americas and forever be beyond the reach of the Fitzwilliams and Darcys.
“There is one family, the Kingstons, who are outcasts. They have three daughters, and when we met them before I fell ill, the young ladies flirted with abandon. I would not be surprised if they are lightskirts. Before you ask, no dowry to speak of,” Denny related. “They are not comely, but if they are willing to take a tumble in the hay, you would not be looking at their faces.”
“Did you attend that soirée Denny missed?” Wickhamasked as he looked at Saunderson.
