“What has you so overset?” Holder enquired concernedly.
“Do you not remember what Jane said when I asked her where she was from? I will never forget it, she said, ‘Merry in Her-shire’ and we assumed towns in Herefordshire. Could it not have been Meryton in Hertfordshire?” Edith took a deep breath. “Paul, it would break my heart to lose them now, but are we not honour-bound to investigate this?”
As he watched tears roll down his wife’s cheeks, Holder’s heart began to break for her and himself. He could not imagine losing the girls who were his daughters in every way but blood. When he had first communicated with the solicitor three years past, he had not paid attention to the return direction. “I think we must, but I will not do anything more than indicating my interest in the estate to Mr Phillips.” Holder remembered something. “If I am correct, Gardiner is from the same town; perhaps before I go to see Mr Phillips, I will ask him if he has heard of any missing children in the area.”
“We do not have to go see the place until after Christmastide, do we?” Edith asked hopefully.
“No, love, we do not. I will write and say we will come after Twelfth Night.”
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
When all of the items removed from Longbourn before Collins became master had been restored to the manor, including all of the late Bennet’s books, Longbourn looked far more like a home again. The horses, carriage, and other conveyances were also returned to Longbourn’s stable. They had been kept in Netherfield Park’s dower house’s stables and carriage house.
The bannisters had been replaced, and any trace of what had occurred that fateful day was gone.
Except for one, to a man and woman, from the Hills on down, those who had worked at Longbourn before Collins became master elected to return. Cook had left to be close to her family, and the new lady decided to remain at Netherfield Park, so Mrs Winters was asked to remain in the role she loved, just being a cook, and she accepted without hesitation.
All five tenant farms would be filled. Three farms had the new tenants already, and the other two would have new farmers as soon as repairs were made to the mess Collins’s tenants had left. They had willingly left when the higher rents—back to what they should have been—were presented as non-negotiable, as were the minimum production levels expected. Best of all, for the first time either could remember, Kitty and Lydia felt safe at Longbourn.
It had been a few weeks, but slowly, as Christmastide approached, the girls had begun to believe that things were really different. Their family names were Phillips, and they had been named Catherine Frances and Lydia Agatha. Changing Kitty’s middle name in the parish records removed the last trace of their birthfather’s name from the sisters.
Kitty and Lydia were very pleased to be sharing the nursery with their little brother, Lawrence. Having a full complement of staff and servants took the two Phillips girls a little time to acclimate to, especially now that there were two nursemaids—the two who had been drugged the day the three Bennet sisters had been removed from Longbourn—who were dedicated to their wellbeing. In the beginning, they would attempt to assist the maids until Agatha, whom they still called aunt and not mamma, convinced them they never needed to work as maids again.
The question of what Fanny did with her three eldest was pondered by Agatha and Phillips often; that was until one fateful day. It was Tuesday, the day of Christmas Eve.
For a reason she would never be able to explain, even to herself, Agatha decided to enter the chamber where Fanny had lived, first as a Bennet and then as a Collins. Mrs Winters had revealed that the late mistress had shared that because Mr Collins did not receive her dowry, he barred her from moving to the mistress’s chamber as punishment. Mrs Winters related how she would not allow any maid into her chamber for years; she cleaned it herself. The only one who entered, and that was at night to take his marital rights, was the late Mr Collins.
Agatha went to see if there was anything she could find to keep for Kitty and Lydia so they would be able to have something of the mother that ultimately sacrificed her life for them.
She entered the room, leaving the door open, and threw the shutters open to allow the weak December sunlight to brighten the room somewhat. As much as she hated what Fanny had done with Jane, Lizzy, and Mary, Agatha could not but be distressed after seeing Fanny’s tattered dresses and gowns she found hanging in the closet. On the floorboards in the closet were two pairs of slippers, full of holes in the soles and rips in the fabric. In the corner was a pair of sorry-looking half-boots. She lifted them; the soles were all but gone, and the heels were worn all the way down.
Shaking her head at more evidence of that man’s depravity, she intended to put the boots back, but one fell. When Agatha looked down, she saw it had dislodged a floorboard. She was about to straighten it when she swore she saw something below. Not sure if she had imagined it, she removed the board altogether, and in the void under she saw a book.
Agatha lifted it reverently and noted it was a journal. When she opened it, two letters fell out. One was addressed to her husband, the other one, to Edward. Agatha felt a chill travel down her spine. Could the answers to what happened to the Bennet sisters be in her hands?
She left things as they were and practically ran down the two flights of stairs to the study. Thankfully Frank was at Longbourn today, the law office having closed at the end of the previous work day.
“Agatha, are you well?” Phillips queried as his wife arrived, looking rather flushed. She told him what she had been doing and what she discovered. She held up the journal and letters. “These were hidden below the floorboards in the closet in Fanny’s chamber,” Agatha revealed. “One letter is addressed to you.”
Phillips saw the other was for Gardiner. The Gardiners were in Lambton for the holiday. Before he decided what to do, Phillips knew he needed to read the letter addressed to him. What he read would help decide whether to send Gardiner’s by express to Derbyshire or wait until he returned. He stood and took Agatha’s hand and led her to the settee between the windows. They sat, and Phillips unfolded the missive which had not been sealed.
7 January 1799
Mr Frank Phillips,
I know I lost the privilege to address you informally as I did when you and Hattie were married.
If you are reading this, there are three possibilities: 1. I am dead. 2. The devil I married is dead. 3. We are both dead. Before I married this man, I never imagined so much cruelty and evil in one person. If either 2 or 3 has come to pass, I hope he is burning in the fires of hell. Even that is too good for him.
Let me begin by saying that I am now aware how dishonourable my actions were in compromising the late Mr Bennet. As Edward said, more than once, as did you, I made my choices so I had to live with the consequences.
You and Edward asked me many times what I did with Janey, Lizzy, and Mary. God forgive me, I left them in Hyde Park.
All of the details, including the date and time, are written in the letter for my brother.
As I watch the way that man scares my Kitty and Lydia (without them I would have ended my own life years ago), I know that at some point I may have to sacrifice myself to protect my darling girls. He slapped Kitty once, and that was enough for me. Since then, I have made sure to be the only target for his venom.
I documented each of his trespasses against me in my journal. If you want to know about the living hell I purchased myself, please read it.
