Page 185 of The Mistress of All & Torn

She allowed little company except Lady Kendal’s. She sent Mary back to Longbourn and received no other calls, nor did she leave the house, except for visiting Philip’s grave together with Lady Kendal. A month into her widowhood, her father came to visit and remained for a fortnight, but Mr Bennet’s presence did not change anything.

Then the summer came and passed, but Lady Alveston’s appearances remained scarce, and few people could claim they had seen her.

∞∞∞

The summer brought a time of feasting and joy across the whole of London, celebrating the victory over Napoleon as well as the anniversary of Hanoverian rule. There were three months of spectacular and lavish celebrations as the town had rarely seen.

Whilst it was customary for the members of the ton to move to the country for the summer, that year things were utterly different. Some extraordinary events were organised by the Royal Family, and everyone of consequence in England was willing to attend. Also, popular entertainments took place in Hyde Park, which was laid out with stalls and pavilions, taverns and military bands, acrobats, swings and roundabouts. In addition, most of the shops and businesses rose to the patriotic occasion and decorated their premises too, spreading the exaltation all over the town.

The Bingleys, the Darcys, and the Fitzwilliams were—obviously—all present in London too, and the families encountered each other rather often. Mary and Kitty spent a lot of time with Miss Darcy, while the Gardiners and the Bingleys were regular visitors of Elizabeth and Lady Kendal.

Caroline Bingley had finally married. Her husband Mr Pemberton was the third son of an old and titled family, with more importance and history than actual money. She was so proud of her connection that her superiority and arrogance reached a new level—which poor Jane and Charles Bingley were obliged to bear rather frequently.

For Elizabeth, that period marked not only one of dark mourning but also a memory that she struggled to bury as deep as possible in her mind: the night she spent with Darcy in Brighton, on the beach, a year ago.

Once her concern for Philip was gone and all the time she had previously spent dedicated to caring for her husband was now unemployed, recollections of Darcy invaded Elizabeth’s mind and heart and she could not banish them.

Darcy was the only man who could comfort her—as a friend—but such a thought was appalling and frightening. She had not seen him for a long while and had received no sign from him except his letter of condolence. He remained far away, not intruding on her mourning with his presence, so she dreaded imagining their next meeting.

Her soul was trapped in a cage of sorrow, and she tried to keep her mind and her body occupied with her charities. Attending people in need and sharing their suffering diminished her own to the point that she could admire a sunny day and enjoy a walk in the park.

She also kept the habit of visiting Philip’s grave twice every week, together with Lady Kendal, and those were the only occasions for her to leave the house.

As a mourning widow she could not attend any gatherings, and that was a true relief to her. Except for her family and very few people close to her, she rejected any other company, even that of Lady Kendal’s friends. She loathed the notion of listening to strange people lamenting Philip’s death and pitying her. Solitude was still her best friend.

She met Georgiana and Anne—but only in her own house—and also Lady Matlock visited once.

Except for Charles Bingley and her uncle Gardiner, no other men stepped through her door in the first months of mourning.

At the beginning of June, Lady Kendal invited the entire Bennet family to stay with them, and despite the mourning for Philip, to put aside their sadness and sorrow and to rejoice in the national celebration.

Lydia and Wickham were excluded from that invitation, as they were allegedly too busy with their current responsibilities. Kitty and Mary, however, had the time of their lives, adding more reasons to be grateful to Lady Kendal.

On the 1st of July, a great ball was held in the Duke of Wellington’s honour, at Burlington House by White’s Club. It was reported to have over one thousand five hundred guests, and Lady Kendal naturally received an invitation too. It was unthinkable for Elizabeth to attend; however, due to her connections and several favours, Lady Kendal managed to take Jane and Bingley, as well as Kitty and Mary to the ball—an event that made an extraordinary and long-lasting impression on them. Upon their return, they related to Elizabeth and their parents a real fairy tale story, from which she only heard that Darcy had been there too, together with Georgiana and the entire Fitzwilliam family.

The hundredth anniversary of George I of Hanover’s ascension to the British throne was celebrated on the 1st of August, with rowing boats on the canal in St James’s Park, and a stunning display of fireworks. Ackermann’s Repository described it as “a blazing edifice of golden fire, every part being covered in lamps, and glass reflectors at proper intervals relieving the splendour with their silver lustre.”

Elizabeth watched the event—that lasted more than an hour—from a significant distance away in her carriage, accompanied by her father, while all the others in the family were close by. At the end of the fireworks, everything was covered in smoke so dense that almost nothing was visible, and people barely found their way through the fog. But it was universally acknowledged in London that the splendour of the spectacle was worth a sore throat and swollen red eyes, and it was spoken about very often in the weeks that followed.

Mr and Mrs Bennet left London in mid-August. The heat, the crowds, the noise, and the bustle was too much for their nerves so they returned to Longbourn, one of them yearning for the peace and quiet of his library, and the other eager to share with her friends in Meryton the extraordinary experiences she had enjoyed in London.

In September, things settled down slightly, as the exaltation soothed; London was ready for the start of the little Season, and the usual occasions attached to it.

“My dear, there is something that has had me preoccupied for some time,” Lady Kendal said one morning, during breakfast. Elizabeth glanced at her, curious, waiting. They were alone, as Mary and Kitty had spent the last two days with Jane and Bingley.

“The earldom that belonged to Philip, and his title, have returned to the Crown since he has no heirs. But we still have the other five estates. I am particularly thinking of the one in Surrey. It has a good house and an additional cottage. You have not seen it yet. Perhaps we could visit it sometime soon.”

“To what purpose, Grandmamma? Is there a problem with it? I am well acquainted with the situation of each property and all are managed properly.”

“I know that my dear. There is no problem at all. But it is a pity for such a lovely property to not be put to good use. What would you say if we turn it into an orphanage?”

The suggestion surprised Elizabeth; it was unexpected but by no means unpleasant.

“Of course, you may decide as you like. If you wish, you may keep the estate and give it to one of your sisters. Or perhaps you will keep it for your future children.”

Elizabeth blushed, then turned pale. “There are children that need our help right away, not in the future. I find your ladyship’s suggestion to be excellent. It sounds like a wonderful project. I shall take care of it without delay. An orphanage with good teachers too, so the children would be provided knowledge and skills to help them make a living.”

Lady Kendal touched her hand, smiling at her warmly.