Mr Bennet Takes Charge Read online

  Mr. Bennet Takes Charge

  by

  Jann Rowland

  One Good Sonnet Publishing

  By Jann Rowland

  PRIDE AND PREJUDICE ADAPTATIONS

  Acting on Faith

  A Life from the Ashes (Sequel to Acting on Faith)

  Open Your Eyes

  Implacable Resentment

  An Unlikely Friendship

  Bound by Love

  Cassandra

  Obsession

  Shadows Over Longbourn

  The Mistress of Longbourn

  My Brother’s Keeper

  Coincidence

  The Angel of Longbourn

  Chaos Comes to Kent

  In the Wilds of Derbyshire

  The Companion

  The Angel of Longbourn

  Chaos Comes to Kent

  In the Wilds of Derbyshire

  The Companion

  Out of Obscurity

  What Comes Between Cousins

  A Tale of Two Courtships

  Murder at Netherfield

  Whispers of the Heart

  A Gift for Elizabeth

  Mr. Bennet Takes Charge

  COURAGE ALWAYS RISES: THE BENNET SAGA

  The Heir’s Disgrace

  PRIDE AND PREJUDICE VARIATIONS

  Co-Authored with Lelia Eye

  WAITING FOR AN ECHO

  Waiting for an Echo Volume One: Words in the Darkness

  Waiting for an Echo Volume Two: Echoes at Dawn

  Waiting for an Echo Two Volume Set

  A Summer in Brighton

  A Bevy of Suitors

  Love and Laughter: A Pride and Prejudice Short Stories Anthology

  THE EARTH AND SKY TRILOGY

  Co-Authored with Lelia Eye

  On Wings of Air

  On Lonely Paths

  On Tides of Fate*

  *Forthcoming

  This is a work of fiction, based on the works of Jane Austen. All the characters and events portrayed in this novel are products of Jane Austen’s original novel, the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously.

  MR. BENNET TAKES CHARGE

  Copyright © 2018 Jann Rowland

  Cover Design by JANN ROWLAND

  Published by One Good Sonnet Publishing

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN: 1989212018

  ISBN-13: 9781989212011

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, digital, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  To my family who have, as always, shown

  their unconditional love and encouragement.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter I

  Chapter II

  Chapter III

  Chapter IV

  Chapter V

  Chapter VI

  Chapter VII

  For Readers Who Liked Mr. Bennet Takes Charge

  About the Author

  Chapter I

  It has been said that daughters are of no consequence to a father. Whoever took the trouble to speak such nonsense was likely not a father and was certainly not a father to five daughters.

  Mr. Henry Bennet of Longbourn in Hertfordshire was both, as a matter of fact. While many in the neighborhood in which the family estate was located might have said Mr. Bennet did not care for his daughters, they would be incorrect. Bennet did love his daughters, though at times he had a peculiar way of showing it. It was possible, however, he had forgotten just how much he loved them.

  The fact of the matter was that it was difficult being the lone male in a house full of giggling females, all with their own concerns, few of which coincided with his own. Thus, when the chance arose for him to dispense with one of them for the summer—the one Bennet found the most difficult to tolerate—he gave his permission without a second thought. That his second eldest and favorite daughter saw fit to question him about it, Bennet did not find at all noteworthy. Lizzy was a good girl, intelligent and thoughtful, her outgoing nature under good regulation, unlike her unfortunate youngest sister. But with little dowry to tempt a fortune hunter, there was little to fear for his youngest and most foolish daughter

  Those words were to be proven untrue in a most spectacular fashion. But at that moment, Bennet saw no reason to question his interpretation of the matter. Thus, Lydia was allowed to go, her family’s peace thereby assured.

  Of course, there was the minor factor of Kitty’s desolation at being denied the amusement extended to her sister. But Kitty would get on tolerably well without Lydia, and the girl might actually manage to obtain some sense under the tutelage of her elder sisters. Sense had never been achieved with Lydia always directing their activities. So, in a way, Lydia’s absence was good for more than Mr. Bennet. Impressed with his own cleverness, Bennet whiled away his hours in his study, and if he considered his youngest daughter on occasion, wondering if she was learning the lesson of her own insignificance, such thoughts did not bother him much.

  “What is it, Lizzy?” asked Mr. Bennet at luncheon not many days after Lydia’s departure. A letter was in his daughter’s hand, and he could not help but notice the distress building as she read through it.

  Outwardly composed, Elizabeth folded her letter and set it beside her plate. “My aunt has written to inform me they have been forced to cancel their summer tour to the north. It seems a matter has arisen which requires Mr. Gardiner’s attention—there will not be enough time to go when it is complete.”

  “I am sure you will do well enough at Longbourn,” said Mrs. Bennet, as always heedless of Lizzy’s feelings. “You have done so much flitting about of late, visiting Kent and the like. I dare say it will do you no harm to stay at home.”

  “While I am happy that I shall not be denied our daughter’s company,” said Mr. Bennet, “it is not surprising Lizzy should be a little cast down upon hearing her amusement has been canceled.”

  “I am unhappy that I shall not go to the north, Papa,” said Elizabeth, the twinkle he loved so much back in her eye. “But I am certain I shall rally tolerably.”

  “That means we shall not host the children!” exclaimed Mrs. Bennet. “Oh, that is well, indeed, for their exuberance quite grates on my poor nerves!”

  “On the contrary, Mrs. Bennet,” said Mr. Bennet, “I thought we might invite Mrs. Gardiner to join us at Longbourn for the summer. For she, too, has been denied her amusement, and her disappointment must be greater.” Mr. Bennet turned to Elizabeth. “I understand the town in which she was raised was also on the itinerary of the proposed tour.”

  “That is what I understood too, Papa,” replied Elizabeth.

  While Mrs. Bennet was taken aback by his suggestion, she appeared to be pondering it. Bennet fancied he could guess the content of her thoughts at that moment. On the one hand, she would lament her inability to escape the children, though Bennet knew the Gardiner children were well behaved—much better, in fact, than some of his own, despite their more advanced years. On the other, however, Bennet knew Mrs. Bennet esteemed her sister, though part of that might be her eagerness to hear any news from town, especially news about the latest fashions.

  In the end, Mrs. Bennet came to the decision he expected from the start. “Perhaps we could invite my sister to stay with us. Her company is always welcome.”

  “Excellent!” said Mr. Bennet. He rose, intending to retire to his chamber, but turned to Elizabeth before he left. “Perhaps you could offer the invitation, Lizzy, for you are already corresponding with Mrs. Gardiner.”

  “I should be happy to, Papa,” said Elizabeth, though she gave him a stern look. Bennet laughed
, aware she had seen through his façade—letter writing was one of those occupations which he detested, and he had suggested it to relieve himself of the duty. Luckily, Elizabeth herself was not at all averse to it.

  The invitation was soon dispatched, and an acceptance received. Early in July, the Bennet carriage left for London, returning the following day, carrying Mrs. Gardiner and her four children. Soon, they had settled in for the summer, intending to stay until at least the middle of August. With Mrs. Gardiner in residence, the opportunity for sensible conversation rose accordingly, and Bennet found himself interested enough to sit with the family more often than was his wont.

  As he watched Mrs. Gardiner those evenings, speaking with her or watching her speak with Lizzy or Jane, impart a bit of wisdom to Mary or advice to Kitty, Bennet was struck by the fact that had he married a woman more like Madeline Gardiner, he would be happier in his life. Those thoughts, of course, led him to consider the flighty creature he had married. Again, those in Meryton might have thought him indifferent to or, even contemptuous of his wife. But it was not true. The Maggie he had married had largely disappeared under the weight of her ever-present nerves, but Bennet was fond of the woman, even while she often drove him around the twist.

  And so, they continued throughout the summer. Letters from Lydia were sparse, but that did not bother Bennet, as he had not expected the girl to find time away from her silliness for such serious subjects as letter writing. The other girls were comfortable, though Kitty was more than a little vexed by the letters she periodically received from Lydia, in which Bennet was certain his youngest daughter was flaunting all the fun she was having. A glance at Kitty one night when the girl had sighed for what seemed the thousandth time told Bennet he would need to fulfill his responsibilities to the girls when his youngest returned home. By then, hopefully, Lydia would be amenable to the idea, and if not, Bennet would point out her relative lack of importance in the world and begin to teach her the proper way of behaving. Maybe he would even succeed!

  Early in August an event occurred which shocked them all, for without previous word or warning, Mr. Bingley visited Longbourn. What was of no surprise was that his appearance caused quite a stir.

  “Oh, Jane, he is here, he is here!” squealed Mrs. Bennet in her usual manner once Kitty, who was stationed by the window, reported the identity of their imminent visitor. “Go upstairs and change into your blue dress at once!”

  “Then she will not be in place when Mr. Bingley enters the room,” observed Bennet, hoping to silence his wife and preserve his hearing.

  Mrs. Bennet frowned, a curious affectation, considering she was still hopping with excitement. “No, you must be correct. We cannot have you above stairs lest Mr. Bingley gain the wrong impression of your absence.”

  “That is likely for the best,” replied Bennet, attempting—and failing—to keep the sardonic note from his voice.

  “He does not come alone,” said Kitty, still peering out the window. “I think Mr. Darcy has come with him.”

  “Mr. Darcy?” demanded Mrs. Bennet. “What could he want?”

  “Perhaps he is traveling with his friend?” suggested Mr. Bennet. “They appeared to be joined at the hip last autumn.”

  “Oh, to be forced to be civil to that man!” wailed Maggie. “After his behavior here, it is shocking he would once again impose himself upon us all!”

  “We all understand your poor opinion of Mr. Darcy, Maggie,” said Mrs. Gardiner. “But consider this: I have seen his estate, and I suspect that ten thousand pounds is a low estimate of his income. This would not even include any other interests he owns. The Darcys have long been a powerful family.”

  “Furthermore,” added Elizabeth, “you should remember that Mr. Darcy has much influence over his friend. It would not do to shirk our welcome to the gentleman.”

  If her sister’s words had not surprised his wife, Bennet wondered if Elizabeth’s admonition might not have found fertile ground. As it was, while Maggie mulled the matter over in her mind, Bennet considered his second daughter, wondering if she possessed better information than she had informed them. She had been in company with Mr. Darcy when staying in Kent, as he recalled, so it was possible she had learned something while there.

  The sound of the outer door opened and then closed, which prompted a scurrying among his family, as Maggie chivvied them to locations and poses where she thought they would be observed to their best advantages. It was only just in time that she found her own seat, for the door opened and Mrs. Hill announced the two gentlemen.

  “Mr. Bingley!” exclaimed Mrs. Bennet, followed by a creditable: “And Mr. Darcy too! You are both very welcome!”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Bennet,” said Mr. Bingley, taking the lead as Bennet might have expected. “We delighted to have returned to Hertfordshire, for it has been much longer than I anticipated when I departed last November.”

  “Yes it has, young man,” said Mr. Bennet. “I presume you are here to see to the summer fields? As it will form a part of your income, I can see why that might be of concern to you.”

  The observation made Mr. Bingley appear a little silly, for he seemed to be at a loss for how to respond. While he was waiting for Mr. Bingley to gather himself, Bennet looked over at Jane, noting her paleness and the calming actions of her sister, Elizabeth, who appeared to be whispering in Jane’s ear. Yes, perhaps it was time to discover this man’s intentions, and run him off if they were not what Bennet hoped.

  “Yes, that is exactly it,” blurted Mr. Bingley. Then he shook his head. “No, that is not the only reason we have come. I mean, yes, it is important to oversee the estate. But the owner’s steward is a capable man who has been acting in this capacity for years.”

  “There is nothing like an owner—or lessee, in this instance—to see to his own interests.” Mr. Darcy, who had spoken up, appeared uncomfortable, but determined to assist his friend. “As Netherfield is Bingley’s estate and his intention is to learn how to manage the various concerns of an estate, he considered it wise to take time this summer to see to it.”

  “Yes, that is exactly it!” exclaimed Mr. Bingley with a grateful look at his friend. “But I will own that part of my reason for returning is because of the fond memory of . . . the acquaintances I made while I was here in the autumn.”

  None of the company missed Mr. Bingley’s glance in Jane’s direction, least of all Mr. Bennet. When Mrs. Bennet took control of the conversation again, exasperated that Bennet would bring up such matters when there were more important issues to discuss, Bennet sat back and observed all. Mrs. Bennet’s account of certain events in the neighborhood comprised the bulk of the conversation. This included Lydia’s residence in Brighton, though Bennet had little notion of why Mr. Bingley would find Lydia’s doings at all interesting. The longer the gentlemen remained in the sitting-room with them, the more comfortable Mr. Bingley became, and it was not long before he began to address his remarks toward Jane. Seeing the young man’s actions displeased Bennet the longer this went on. The resolve to speak to the young man and determine his intentions grew that much more pressing.

  “Mr. Bingley,” said Bennet at length, not caring he was interrupting whatever the man was saying to Jane. “It comes to my mind that there is a matter of mutual interest between our estates which I should discuss with you. Will you grant me a moment of your time in my study?”

  The look the young gentleman bestowed upon Mr. Bennet was akin to that which might have been worn by a rat cornered by a cat. To Mr. Bingley’s credit, though he appeared petrified, he agreed without hesitation. Rising, Bennet motioned him to follow, leading the gentleman to his study. There, he took his chair behind his desk, and while he thought of letting Mr. Bingley continue to stand, he thought better of it and directed him to a chair on the other side.

  “It appears I must apologize to you, Mr. Bingley,” said Bennet, “for there is no matter of the estate we must discuss. I wished to speak to you, instead, of your lengthy absence a
nd the fact that your attentions toward my eldest seem to have picked up where you left off, as if no time had passed.”

  “That comes as no surprise, Mr. Bennet,” said Mr. Bingley. “In fact—”

  Bennet held up his hand for silence and was mildly surprised that the man desisted. Reminded of his cousin, Collins, Bennet stifled a laugh, instead projecting the concerned and stern countenance of a parent.

  “Young man, I do not wish to hear excuses or explanations. None of that is relevant, in my estimation. What I do wish to hear is what you plan now you are returned. Even more, I wish to hear your coming attentions to my eldest daughter—which is what I assume you intend—will be followed through to their natural conclusion.”

  “I understand, Mr. Bennet.” Mr. Bingley straightened his shoulders and lifted his head, proving he possessed some pluck. “The biggest mistake I ever made was to leave Hertfordshire last November and not return. There is no reason for you to trust me—this I understand. It is my intention to prove to you—to Miss Bennet—that I am a man of conviction and firmness of purpose. I will not depart from Netherfield again until I have secured your daughter’s affections and her hand.”

  “Or she has refused you.”

  Mr. Bingley gawped, unable to respond. As amusing as the young man was, Bennet did not possess the patience to deal with him at present. The old longing to have his bookroom to himself, had made itself known again. But while he felt he could trust Jane’s sense in this manner, it was her sensibility he questioned. He would not wish such a sweet woman as Jane to be tied to a man who could not be counted on to be firm. Thus, it was imperative Mr. Bingley understand he would not be allowed to carry on in such a manner.

  “It is not my intention to deny you, Mr. Bingley,” said Bennet. “It is also not my intention to provoke guilt or lay blame. But I will inform you that my daughter spent a miserable winter, certain you did not care for her after you gave every indication you did. Then what your sister did to ensure Jane understood she wished to sever the connection was not only cruel, but I suspect riddled with untruth. Should I wish for Jane to obtain sisters who display such a disregard for her feelings?”