“I hope he is not in France!” Mrs Bennet said with obvious concern. Mr Bennet tried not to smile in his wife’s direction; she had still been unhappy about his arrival only a few days ago.
“I think, madam, that a man like him knows how to avoid danger. He will reach us in perfect health, do not hope otherwise!”
He observed her, wondering if she secretly hoped that the war in Europe or any other misfortune could stop Uncle Thomas from arriving at Longbourn, but his wife’s green eyes were clear. On her countenance, he could see no sign of fury. Whilst she could lie with nonchalance about little matters such as the price of a pound of cheese, she was not capable of hiding her soul. The contents of her soul were always written upon her face for anyone interested in her feelings.
She had probably found an interest in his arrival, which could only benefit the peace of the family.
∞∞∞
A week before Uncle Thomas’s arrival, the preparations were in full swing. A carriage loaded with old furniture arrived from the Gardiners, who had redecorated their house only a year before. The furniture, carpets, and curtains were neither dirty nor ruined, merely out of fashion. In no time, the two large rooms being prepared for their uncle’s arrival appeared elegant and sunny. It was a surprise to everyone when Mrs Bennetannounced she would move in there herself as soon as the apartment became available.
“Available?” Mr Bennet asked. “What do you mean by that? We are not running an inn where customers come and go. Uncle Thomas will spend the rest of his life with us.”
That prospect made Mrs Bennet angry again.
“We have had five daughters, and you have never made any changes to the house!”
The reproach was so direct that Mr Bennet removed his spectacles, ready for battle. In some respects, his wife was right. He had never taken much interest in improving Longbourn, perhaps because, paradoxical as it seemed, although it was his home for life, it could never become the home of future generations of his family owing to that damned entail. Yet, as he watched the works draw towards completion, he felt a measure of regret. He ought to have built those rooms long ago.
“Yes, you might be right,” he answered, observing the astonishment on her face. “I promise, Mrs Bennet, that as soon as the apartment becomes available, it will be yours.”
It was an easy victory for Mrs Bennet, and for once, she felt closer to her husband than she had in a long time. “Thank you, Mr Bennet!” she said, gazing around again with much satisfaction and already imagining her friends gathered there for tea on a sunny day.
Mr Bennet reflected that he had never expected the windows to become the most expensive part of the construction. He would have to make savings elsewhere, though he could not know how successful they would be until after the harvest.
“My dears,” he said, just a day before Uncle Thomas’s arrival, “thank you for your support.”
Amazingly, all five sisters had participated in the decoration with goodwill and enjoyment. The occasionalarguments had concerned nothing more serious than the colour of a curtain or the placement of a small table in the cosy room.
There were flowers upon the tables, and Mr Bennet had discovered some old paintings in the attic which now hung upon the walls.
He did not know for certain what his wife truly thought, but she had resolved to behave amiably, whilst his daughters were evidently delighted, and that mattered a great deal to him. His uncle would be received as family, and that was all that concerned him.
Chapter 3
On the day of Thomas Bennet’s arrival, the whole house was in happy chaos. They expected him in the afternoon, but a constant frenzy from room to room began as soon as breakfast was over. The sisters exchanged ribbons and pieces of jewellery, each wishing to look her best. When the carriage approached the gates, they were so excited that parents and daughters alike ran down the main staircase to receive their guest.
In the last few days, there had been endless speculation about how their uncle might look. From an elderly man supported by a footman to an energetic adventurer, every possibility had been considered. In a way, they were not surprised by the slender gentleman with white whiskers who sprang from the carriage as soon as it stopped before the house. What they did not expect was his extraordinary resemblance to Mr Bennet. Their father and husband was a younger version of Uncle Thomas, though the older gentleman bore all the marks of an outdoor life. He was tanned and moved with an ease that immediately charmed his family. Having spent so many years away from England, he cared little for protocol and threw his arms around Mr Bennet.
“Edward!”
The family stared in astonishment. Nobody ever called their father Edward, and even they scarcely remembered his Christian name.
The intrepid uncle then embraced their mother. “Jenny, you are even more beautiful than my nephew described you!”
And they all witnessed an unexpected sight: Mrs Bennet blushing like a young girl, plainly delighted.
Then the exuberant gentleman paused to admire the five girls lined up to receive him, ready to curtsey but wondering whether Uncle Thomas intended to embrace them as well. Instead, he stopped before them and smiled. “I do not want you to tell me who you are. I want to guess and discover whether your father is a good storyteller.”
Without hesitation, he turned towards Jane. “You are Jane!”
Jane curtsied with a blush. Then he recognised Elizabeth. “Your father calls you Lizzy, but I shall call you Elizabeth, for it is a queen’s name.”
Looking next at Mary, he exclaimed with delight, “You are Mary Bennet!”
To everyone’s surprise, the timid girl looked up at the gentleman and spoke with growing courage.
“How can you tell, Uncle Thomas?”
