Twelvetide Chaos Page 10

  The four and twenty families of Meryton society had the tradition that they would take turns hosting the Twelfth Night celebrations. Mrs Bennet had begged to host the celebrations this year as the final social event to celebrate the weddings that took place on the fifth day of Christmas. Eventually the Gouldings had conceded and allowed the Bennets to host the celebration that was important to masters and servants alike. Mrs Bennet knew that she had organised a good party, and that the servants would remove all greenery including the yule log that burned in the grate before they went to bed. The sounds of revelry came through the walls and Mrs Bennet was thankful for Lady Catherine taking over as hostess for her, thus enabling the evening revels to go ahead, while allowing the family to retire into mourning the loss of the eldest Miss Bennet in private.

  “Mrs Knightley, who is the King and Queen of Misrule?” Mrs Bennet’s curiosity had gotten the best of her.

  “Mr Vickers and Mrs Hill. The two of them have led everyone a merry dance this evening.” Emma reported. “There have been mini plays, and all sorts of readings. Oh, and games too. It really has been most fun. Mrs Hill and Mr Vickers are very imaginative and kept us guessing as to what they will come up with next. Lady Catherine de Bourgh has proven to be a formidable hostess and frequently adds to the mayhem by subtle suggestions or blatant calls for this or that to happen. Most of which the king and queen are happy to oblige. There are none who sit out on the side so all are having an absolutely marvellous time this evening.”

  Mrs Bennet smiled. The night was a success despite the unfortunate events. Meryton would not see another night like this for many a year. Lady Catherine had done it all for Mrs Bennet, and she was exceedingly thankful. The servants too were amazingly loyal and deserved this night that most of them would look forward to for the whole year. The night would carry on for many hours yet, but the family decided that it was time to go to bed.

  Nobody arose very early the next day, except for Mrs Bennet and the Gardiners. Mr and Mrs Gardiner had said their goodbyes the previous night and apologised that it they would be unlikely to attend Jane’s funeral due Mr Gardiner’s need to be in London for his business for the foreseeable future. Shortly after nine o’clock that morning, the Gardiner carriage was the first to leave the Longbourn estate, and Mrs Bennet waved them off. It would be another hour before the any other guest or family member would rise. Mrs Bennet sat down in the morning room with her sewing and allowed the grief to settle into her bones. She no longer felt the usual hysterics, though her nervousness was fully present. There was an air of calm about her that meant anyone who observed the matriarch would have thought her to be unfeeling and uncaring. Jane was gone and the excess of worry that had dogged Mrs Bennet’s steps for twenty years was relieved also. Grief threatened to overcome her as Mrs Bennet silently shed tears for the loss of her first child.

  Mr Bennet and her remaining daughters were the next ones to rise. None of them disturbed her silent reverie as they too felt the sting of the loss. It was Mr Collins who finally disturbed Mrs Bennet. Unrestrained and bordering on the rude and arrogant, he not only interrupted her silent grief, but in his arrogance placed himself in a position that usurped that of the local Longbourn vicar and her son-in-law Edmund Bertram. “Madam,” he began, “As your cousin and as a clergy man I feel it is my duty,” Mrs Bennet would have happily reminded him what his duty was, and it was not whatever it was he felt to be his duty, “to condole with you on the loss of your daughter. Her recent behaviour and the scandal that she brought upon the family have rendered her death to be a blessing in disguise.”

  He would have carried on, but Mrs Bennet whirled around on him, “My daughter’s death is a blessing? How? What possible reason could the death of a child, who should be buried only after their parents, a blessing? How dare you comment on my daughter’s situation? How dare you say that her death is a blessing? You know nothing of my family and my daughter. She had some kind of illness that changed her character, and I do not believe that to be a ‘blessing’ when it is the same illness that killed her.”

  “My apologies, ma’am. I merely meant to say that she can cause no more damage to the family or her own reputation. It is grievous and to be lamented that you and your husband should have lost your daughter in such a horrible way. Especially as this should have been such a time of great joy. That the death should have come on the heels of Miss Bennet’s scandal and of Miss Lydia’s disappointment is truly unfortunate. I am sorry to say that I and my wife will be leaving today with my mother-in-law. I know that we could be of great service to your household at this time. Why I believe that my wife’s mother has already been a major help to you and your family, and that the magnificent party last night was due to her efforts. I do believe that was the best of the social engagements that we have had these past two weeks.” Mr Collins carried on for another half an hour waxing lyrical over the accomplishments of Lady Catherine, and of the beauties and achievements of his wife. All the while insulting his hostess and the family that was hosting him and had provided the fortnight’s entertainments. By the end of his soliloquy, Mrs Bennet not only wanted to throw him from her home, but for once in her life she wished that she were strong enough to do physical violence against the man. Despite being a vicar and using his clergyman status as a reason for his soliloquy not one word of actual comfort, or of biblical hope came from his mouth. It had all been pompous nothings and personal aggrandisement. She was glad when the annoying little man finished his speech and walked off to annoy his wife and her mother in their preparations to leave.

  A breakfast of cold meats, fruits and dainties had been laid out for the party. Each one drifted into the breakfast parlour to have their breakfast at various times, as there was no set time for everyone to gather together, but by midday all breakfasts had been finished and the breakfast foods were cleared away. Lady Catherine and the Collins left directly breakfast had been finished and the rest of Mrs Bennet’s guests left shortly thereafter, with her married daughters going back to Netherfield, but postponing leaving the area until after Jane’s burial. The end of breakfast rendered another surprise for Mrs Bennet, she did not know what it was about, but Mr Bingley entered Mr Bennet’s study and stayed there discussing something until long after the other guests had left the house. Once the interview was done, Mr Bingley had a hurried whispered conversation with Lydia, and then left the building.

  Mrs Bennet felt like that self-satisfied partridge in the pear tree as she watched the last of her guests leave that day, knowing that though her family were now entering a period of mourning, she had given the best celebrations she could this week and that her daughters had married good men, and would have strong marriages that would last throughout the years.

  Epilogue

  29th December 1813

  All Meryton was buzzing with gossip. When Mr Bingley had been ready to accept social invitations once more, many of the families had tried to attract him to their daughters, but he had steadily resisted all attempts to engage his affection. Shockingly, he had announced his engagement to Miss Lydia Bennet about six months after the death of her sister, but they had postponed their wedding until their sisters’ wedding anniversaries. The reason for this had been simple, both of them had been hurt badly on that day, and they wanted to remember the day as a day of joy and not sorrow.

  The little Longbourn Church was neatly and tastefully decorated, and the flowers were beautifully and artfully arranged. The groom stood at the altar a slightly grave look on his face, as he looked out over the congregation. The bride’s mother had done well to arrange this, and he was grateful that after Jane’s strange behaviour and early death he had been granted this second chance. The bride’s sisters had all come for the wedding, despite that they had all given birth within the last year to strong healthy young boys. The young heirs were now nestled in their mothers’ arms, oblivious to the importance of where they were and what was happening.

  It briefly occurred to Bingley to wonder what had
become of the Wickhams. When they left Meryton to re-join his regiment, there had been an air of decided ill will towards the brother that had eventually accepted that Mrs Wickham had wanted the elopement as much as Mr Wickham. Bingley knew that Darcy had never embraced the union, and both he and Colonel Fitzwilliam had refused to honour the full thirty-thousand-pound dowry that Georgiana had inherited, as the dowry was dependant on the good will and blessing of her guardians. As she had married a man without their consent and who they knew to be a wastrel, they had eventually offered half the original dowry. The other half had been given to Lydia who the young couple had grievously wronged.

  Bingley also had time to consider the fate of Fanny Price. She had married Mr Hastings, but tragedy had struck the poor young woman. The assumption she and others had made that the swelling in her stomach was due to pregnancy had proved wrong. Nobody had ever touched her. Edmund Bertram had known that but had chosen to remain silent when she had suspected it. A month after her marriage Mrs Hastings had written to her cousin complaining that she was bilious and that her skin had turned a horrible yellow. Mr Hastings had refused to call an apothecary or doctor until it was too late. Fanny Price was now bedridden and was not expected to live very much longer due to her liver failing. Had she still been at Mansfield Park, and the surgeon from town been called in quickly, it is likely that she would have lived. The guilt that Edmund held about his cousin was already leading to his withdrawing from family life with his wife. His marriage would never be the same easy one it had once been.

  The wait for Bingley’s bride seemed to be so long. Was she late? He looked at his watch again, no, it was barely a minute since he had last looked. Where was the bride? Where was her mother? What was going on? Right on time, the church doors opened, and the congregation rose. A sober and restrained Mr Bennet walked his youngest daughter down the aisle and gave her away to the young man standing at the altar. The bride’s face was wreathed in smiles, but the redness around the eyes, and the absence of Mrs Bennet told another story. Something was wrong. The ceremony had been short, and their vows were exchanged. They signed the register held at the church and were about to leave the church when Mr Bennet stood up.

  “I am sorry to inform you that there will not be a wedding breakfast due to the fact that my wife passed away just before we left for the church. The family are grateful for your attendance and support for the couple, and I hope that you will all forgive us that we once more retreat from Meryton society.” With that Mr Bennet stepped aside and the bridal couple left the church. Many congratulations were given, and much condolence also.

  It was only back at Longbourn that Mr Bingley and the rest of the family found out what had happened. Mr Jones had confirmed his diagnosis of what killed Jane within two weeks of Jane’s death. When her skull had been opened up a large growth was clearly visible to the eye spreading across a large portion of her brain. The shock and the anger that Mrs Bennet felt had caused her own nervous anxiety to get worse for a time, yet she would have slowly recovered. During this time the pains in her heart began to get worse. This information she kept between her and Mr Jones, who kept her on a strict diet and aided her as much as he could. Halfway through the year she began to show signs of forgetfulness, and eventually she showed the same signs that Jane had. Her character had slowly changed, but she still managed to carry out her duty and arrange everything for her daughter’s wedding. With six months of warning, she had everything ready and planned within two months, enabling her and her husband to hide the fact that she was steadily declining in health and that her character was changing. Mr Jones suspected that she had a slower form of what Jane had suffered, but what killed her was none of the existing health complaints, but a sudden and unexpected apoplexy that morning.

  Mrs Bennet was dead, she had achieved all that she set out to achieve and was now resting in peace.

  About the Author

  Deborah found her love of Jane Austen’s work when she was 15 by watching the 1995 adaptation of Pride and Prejudice by Andrew Davies. She then read Miss Austen’s books multiple times and began reading fan fiction books, which led her to begin writing her own Jane Austen Fan Fiction (JAFF) in 2010.

  Deborah’s burning passion is to empower others through the written word. Deborah left school in 1997. She has many varied hobbies including watercolour painting, playing the piano, violin and the flute. She loves reading a broad spectrum of material which ranges from Philosophy through to the latest fiction. She is a life-long Norwich City Football Club fan. She loves sewing and excels at Cross Stitch. If she is not writing the one thing that she loves is to spend several hours just walking around her favourite beauty spots.

  To contact Deborah:

  Email: deborahpearson.authorjaff@gmail.com

  Blog: https://deborahpearsonblog.wordpress.com

  facebook.com/DeborahEPearson

  Other books by Deborah E Pearson:

  The Meryton War

  The Longbourn Conundrum

  The Darcy Legacy Series:

  1811-1812 How It All Began Part 1

  1812 How it all began Part 2.