Before leaving, Edward visited his sister in her parlour briefly; other than a stilted greeting, nothing had been said. They had not had much to say to one another before Fanny compromised Bennet, and even less so now. He was fully aware—and cared not—that his younger sister would never forgive him for pointing out how dishonourable her behaviour was.
On his return to his father’s house, Edward told him about all he had seen. From his son’s descriptions, Gardiner imagined that Jane looked just like Fanny did as a babe. As much as he wanted to be able to see her freely, Gardner was aware that it was his own actions which had led to the break with Bennet.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
The day before Christmas Eve, Bennet decided that even though he had no time for Gardiner, it was cruel to keep the man from meeting his granddaughter. He extended an invite for both Gardiner men to call the next day.
To Gardiner, this was the best Christmas gift he had ever received. He and Edward arrived at the stipulated time and were shown into the main drawing room where Bennet awaited them. The three men bowed to one another, notwithstanding the awkwardness between Bennet and Gardiner.
“Mr Bennet, allow me to take this opportunity to convey my deepfelt apology for my part in forcing you to wed Fanny. It was very badly done by me,” Gardiner admitted.
“Thank you.” He had neither expected nor demanded that Gardiner beg his forgiveness, but he did appreciate that unlike his daughter, the man was willing to take responsibility for his actions.“I pardon you. Would you like to meet Jane?” Bennet cocked his head towards the door. Nurse brought the serene Miss Bennet into the room.
“She really does look like Fanny when she was the same age,” Gardiner enthused. He reached his hands out, and after seeing a nod from the master, Nurse placed the calm girl into her grandfather’s hands.
Big, deep blue eyes stared back at Gardiner as he held the little mite. He could tell that although Jane looked like Fanny, they were very dissimilar in temperament. The latter was never calm, always fussing or crying, while the former was as serene a babe as Gardiner had ever beheld. His heart swelled with love for the tiny girl in his arms.
Gardiner saw his daughter at dinner, and she was much the same as ever. She complained about her lot when her husband was not present and took no responsibility for her part in things.
He realised that he had done his daughter no favours by allowing her late mother to indulge her and not disciplining her when he should have.
Before Gardiner left, Bennet gave him a second Christmas gift by telling him he was welcome to come visit his granddaughter when he had the time and desire to do so.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
In February 1790, a new and very welcome addition arrived in Meryton. Mr Finneus Jones, an apothecary and doctor in one person, set up his practice in Meryton.
As the nearest apothecary was in Hatfield while the closest physician was in St Albans, Mr Jones’s arrival was heralded by all of the residents of the market town and surrounding area, and in a short amount of time his practice grew apace. When those in Hatfield required a physician, Mr Jones was called since Meryton was considerably closer than St Albans.
As well as being one of his first patients, Bennet struck up a friendship with the man. Jones agreed that there was no known cure for Bennet’s heart problems, and although he was not sure why, it seemed to be an inherited trait from his late father.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
A month or so after Jane turned one, Fanny felt the quickening for the second time. Thankfully, like he had done after she began to increase with Jane, Mr Bennet had ceased importuning her as soon as she had missed her second month’s courses. Fanny was very hopeful; in fact, she told one and all that she was sure that she was carrying the heir to Longbourn.
Bennet hoped that his wife had the right of it all the while knowing that she had no way of knowing, like she was telling everyone that she was. So far the symptoms of the disease had not progressed, which gave him more time, except that time was with his wife living in the house. Mr Jones was hopeful it was a good sign.
Contrary to his wife’s assertion he would have no use for a daughter, Bennet enjoyed being in Janey’s presence, and that desire increased once she began to walk a fortnight after her first birthday and was now managing to say a word here and there. Bennet did not allow a day to go by without spending some time in the nursery with Janey, unlike his wife.
Even though Fanny would boast how beautiful Jane was, once Jane was weaned off her mother’s milk, Fanny only saw the girl when it was time to show her pretty daughter to others. The fact that she and Sarah Lucas were friends did not stop Fanny pointing out Charlotte’s plainness as compared to her daughter.
Tragedy struck in November of 1790. Gardiner, who since Christmastide of the previous year had been a frequent caller at Longbourn, stepped out of his offices to cross the main street when he was struck by a runaway cart.
Jones pronounced him dead where he lay. Either the blow or the subsequent fall broke Mr Gardiner’s neck, and there was nothing to be done for him.
Fanny Bennet was sad her father had been taken from them, but what angered her was that Hattie’s dowry had gone to Frank Phillips and not herself, and there had been nothing else for her. The practice and house were Phillips’s, and everything else, any funds Gardiner had at the time of his death, was left to his only son. It seemed strange he had left nothing to Jane or any future grandchildren.
What no one—except for his son—knew was that given the wrong which had been perpetrated against Bennet, some months before he met his end, Gardiner placed more than ten thousand pounds into the investment account managed by his son, where Bennet’s money for the future of his children was kept.
The months rolled past, and Fanny increased apace. Unlike when she carried Jane, the babe was very active, seemingly never sleeping. This was one of the many things that Fanny decided meant that she was carrying a son and not another daughter. By the time January 1791 arrived, Fanny could not move easily as she was significantly larger than she had been when carrying Jane; another indicator that she carried a male child.
Just after midnight on the fifth day of February, Fanny was brought to bed with her labours. Mr Jones was standing by in her husband’s study, just in case his services were needed. The midwife told her to push twenty hours later a little after eight in the evening. On the fourth big push, there was a release of the pressure and then the squalling of a seemingly very angry babe, if the cries were anything to go by. Mrs Hill, who was assisting the midwife, did not miss that the newest Bennet had balled-up fists which she seemed to swing as she made her disapproval known.
Unlike Miss Janey, who would be two later that year, the newest Bennet had a darker complexion and wavy raven locks. Her eyes were dark blue, as all babes’eyes were.
While the midwife delivered the afterbirth, Mrs Hill cleaned and swaddled the babe, which seemed to calm the newly born girl.
As soon as Fanny was changed and sat back down onto a freshly made bed with newly cleaned sheets, she extended her arms.“Let me see my son,” she demanded excitedly.
