Alias Thomas Bennet (37 page)

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Authors: Suzan Lauder

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Lady Matlock responded, “The
ton
is not aware of the true identity of Lady Elizabeth’s guardian. They think she is a ward of a quiet and reclusive country squire named Thomas Bennet and has only recently discovered Lord and Lady Shelton were her parents, to her own surprise as well as that of society in general. I hope you will join with the family in keeping our secret; it is in all our best interests.”

Lady Catherine would not be gainsaid. “Shelton, you are not sensible of your own good, to have quit the sphere in which you were brought up. What say you to that?”

“I am content to be a gentleman and will remain so. I have no desire to return to my former title.”

“I am vexed that you disappeared for these twenty years with no contact with those you considered your friends,” Lady Catherine said crossly.

“Can you not see my position? Malcolm and his father were very influential, and I was shamed by being the one left alive in an illegal duel. The real Thomas Bennet knew he was dying; he needed a protector for his wife when he passed, and I needed a mother for my daughters. An exile, a deception, and a marriage of convenience were the only choices I had at the time.”

“You should have let us know. We would have kept your secret—if not for you, for Olivia,” Lady Catherine said, then suddenly realized she may have been the only one not privy to the secret. “Good God, did Elinor know?”

Lady Matlock was quick to reassure her. “That Shelton was Thomas Bennet? No. Until today, I, too, thought he was dead. And I did not know Lady Jane and Lady Elizabeth as adults until I was introduced to them this week.”

Lady Catherine was not easily mollified. “But Elinor was Olivia’s sister, and little Jenny’s godmother! How could you have kept her nieces from her?” she asked of Bennet.

“I felt it was for the best. Perhaps I was mistaken, but I wanted to save the girls from fortune hunters and protect them from any harmful effects resulting from the duel. That is why I waited so long to divulge their heritage.”

“Fitzwilliam and Anne have been pursued for their fortunes, and it is not pleasant to see it happen,” Lady Catherine conceded. “Is the house of Malcolm still a threat?”

“I would not believe so,” Darcy said. “The current Marquess of Malcolm is a good man. He is a friend of mine from Cambridge.”

“The duel was over twenty years ago,” Lady Matlock added. “The family has no esteem for the man whom Shelton dueled; they would rather forget they were related to a man known as such a licentious villain.”

“Then why continue this charade?” asked Lady Catherine. “The duel is long forgotten, and Lady Jane and Lady Elizabeth have the connections to make them acceptable in society.” She once again turned her attention to Darcy. “No matter how much I begrudge you the match, Fitzwilliam, the connection is a good one for our family. I have decided that I will give you my blessing, but I am severely put out that you told me in a letter instead of summoning me here for something of this much importance.”

Bennet noticed Darcy roll his eyes. They knew this was as much as they could expect from Lady Catherine regarding Darcy and Elizabeth’s engagement.

“As you have rightly pointed out,” Bennet said, “I am concerned that the response of the
ton
to my true identity will be harmful to my daughters. As much as a part of me abhors this disguise, I cannot change things now.”

“You should not have taken Longbourn from that sycophantic toad of a parson either, but he does not deserve that pleasure. He will inherit when you are dead. Lord knows how long that will be. I should expose you just to get the man off my hands.”

“I do not know what to say. My life at Longbourn is crucial to avoiding a scandal that would affect the family.”

“Very well, Shelton, I shall know how to act. I suppose that if you are to be family, I must keep your secret. I am quite put out that you saw fit to tell Elinor and not me. I may not be Olivia’s sister, but I was almost her dearest friend in the world.”

Bennet thought it best not to argue with Lady Catherine on the status of her friendship with Lady Shelton; Lady Anne Darcy had been Olivia’s closest friend.

“Elinor happened upon us just now in the same way you did, Catherine, while I was discussing a pressing matter with Darcy.” Bennet hoped, but not necessarily expected, that she would understand the need for privacy to deal with their concerns.

“And what would this pressing matter be?”

Darcy responded, “I have some letters of business to write. I am acting in Mr. Bennet’s stead that he may remain anonymous.”

Bennet was concerned that the time they were spending in discourse with Lady Catherine would be better spent looking for Wickham. He cast a frustrated look towards his friend. Although he had comfort in telling Lady Matlock about their problems with Wickham’s treachery, he was less willing to acquaint Lady Catherine with the details. He was fearful that her need to control any situation would hamper their progress.

Lady Matlock helped him to that end. “This is all gentlemen’s business, Catherine. What say you to tea at my home?”

“Nonsense, Elinor. I have managed Rosings for more than ten years since Sir Lewis passed on, and I am quite capable of dealing with men’s business.”

“Lady Catherine, respectfully, we have already determined the arrangements to be made,” Bennet said.

Darcy added a new thought to which Lady Catherine was certain to be receptive. “Perhaps if you accompany Lady Matlock to luncheon, you can discuss how to make known Bennet’s identity to Lord Matlock and provide my uncle with your ideas for keeping this information as our family secret.”

Fortunately, the distraction worked on Lady Catherine’s sense of importance and duty to her relations, and the ladies departed.

“Darcy,” said Bennet, “Harold will never forgive you for setting her upon him to discuss strategy. You know how overbearing she can be.”

“Yes, but her loyalty is very strong. She will do all in her power to protect your identity now that she is amenable to my marriage to Elizabeth.”

“Only because you suggested that Anne should marry a duke!”

“I own to it,” said Darcy with a chuckle. “She does always aspire to the highest of stations. But she has a strong sense of family, and now that you are to be a greater part of it, there is nothing she will not do to protect you.”

“Yes,” Bennet said drily, “but now I will have to suffer through hearing how she has the best knowledge and judgement in the country on how to remain an unknown country gentleman.”

Chapter 24:
Lady Elizabeth’s courage rises with every attempt to intimidate her.

29 April 1812
London

It was just after first light when Elizabeth rose and quietly dressed herself. Jane, who was sharing a room with her at the Gardiners’ home, woke and looked at her sister with bleary eyes.

“Why are you up so early, Lizzy?”

“I was having dreams about the attention we received at the theatre last evening; it made me nervous about going to Almack’s tonight, and I could not sleep.”

“Are you already dressed? I did not hear Sally.”

“I am going to take a turn about the garden to calm my thoughts.”

“You should not go out alone.”

“Do not worry. Jenkins and Roberts will most certainly be watching me, as much as I dislike the constant attention. You go back to sleep now.” Jane, who was barely awake, obliged her without complaint.

Elizabeth was used to stealing out alone early in the morning before the rest of the family awoke. It had been a habit all her life; her independent stubbornness would not allow her to feel hemmed in. The servants were up and bustling about to prepare for the day, but because of the lateness of their return from the theatre the previous night, most of the others would be abed for hours. She slipped through a side door into the garden then along the lane towards the nearby park. She hurried across the street, passing a servant from another household who greeted her with a tug on his forelock.

When she reached the park, she slowed her pace as she strolled along the well-marked path between the flowers and bushes. The little poppies were opening their faces for the day, and the park looked golden and smelled fresh from a light rain the night before. She heard a rustling nearby and turned to see where the noise had come from but saw nothing but a squirrel rushing up a nearby tree.

She laughed, skipped a bit, and broke into a short run, feeling exhilarated at the exercise and the freedom she felt. The morning was still chilly, so she turned her face to the sun as it gently moved higher in the sky. After a few moments savouring its warmth, Elizabeth turned back to continue her ramble. Stopping at the pond, she watched the ducks awakening from their slumber, lifting their heads off their backs little by little and then diving for food, their colourful bottoms sticking out of the water. She giggled and walked on near a procession of rhododendrons resplendent in their colour, shaded from the morning sun by a grove of several large plane trees. She paused to enjoy the beauty of the prettily-situated bushes.

Having completed her perusal of the pink balls of flowers that the rhododendrons so proudly displayed, Elizabeth decided she had walked far enough and turned back along the same path, once again distracted by the beauty of her surroundings and her happy solitude. Upon rounding the corner past the copse, she heard the little birds gaily singing and looked up at them. When they rushed off their perches in unison, she realized she was not alone. The glow of sunlight made her squint to see who was approaching.

A woman moved towards her unhurriedly. Elizabeth was surprised to see another person up so early but was not alarmed; the woman was dressed as a gentlewoman, though her clothes were not in the latest fashion. She wore a cap and a large bonnet that partly concealed her face, and she did not look up as she spoke.

“Good morning, miss.”

Elizabeth carefully regarded this stranger. “Good morning.”

“I came out for an early walk and seem to have lost my way. Can you direct me towards Noble Lane?” The woman sounded somewhat worried.

“I am not sure I can help you. I came from Gracechurch Street; is it near there?” Elizabeth asked.

“I think so. Can you direct me?”

“Of course. I was just returning myself.”

“Thank you very much. I do appreciate it.”

“My name is Miss Elizabeth Bennet.” Elizabeth, unused to her new name and a bit self-conscious of her title, chose to recall the name she had known for most of her life.

“I am called Mrs. Younge. I am pleased to make your acquaintance.” The two ladies curtseyed.

With Elizabeth’s instruction, they continued in the direction from which Mrs. Younge had come. As they walked, Elizabeth was unsure as to why she felt slightly uncomfortable in this woman’s presence. On several occasions, she looked at the woman, but Mrs. Younge did not look up. Elizabeth decided that her companion was shy and hiding behind her bonnet. As she was considering this, the ladies were halted by a voice Elizabeth immediately recognized.

“Miss Bennet. Or should I say Lady Elizabeth?” Wickham’s voice was mocking.

Although she prided herself on her courage, and since the attack, had been resolute that she would not allow herself to be intimidated, Elizabeth was full of trepidation. She hoped that her disquiet would go unnoticed by Mrs. Younge; she did not want to alarm the other lady.

Silently chastising herself for walking out without Roberts and Jenkins, she considered whether there would be anyone else nearby upon whom she could rely for assistance. She thought of the servant she had seen earlier and wished she had not walked so far. She considered grabbing Mrs. Younge and attempting to run away but discounted that idea since Wickham would surely catch them given their encumbrance of long skirts. At least with the other woman as witness, there could be no accusations of a compromise by Wickham.

“What a pleasure to see you and your companion walking out on such a lovely morning, my lady!” he said as he rounded upon them. “How fortunate you have found a place with such beauty for an early morning promenade. Tell me, do you think the city park measures up to the countryside?”

Elizabeth’s eyes narrowed, and she gritted her teeth. In spite of her fear, she was angry at Wickham’s gall. She was about to challenge his familiarity with country walks but then reconsidered her manners and dropped her gaze, for she did not want to aggravate him with any impertinence.

“I understand I am to offer you joy on your engagement to Mr. Darcy. He is a very lucky man to have won the hand of such a beauty,” Wickham said almost blithely. “He and I were good friends as children. Perhaps you can speak to him on my behalf since I miss his companionship deeply.”

He then turned his attention to the lady standing beside Elizabeth. “Can you introduce me to your friend?”

***

Mrs. Bertha Younge was an enterprising woman. She had done well in her current occupation, even though it was several steps below her prior work as a lady’s companion. Her only weakness was her obsession with George Wickham.

Claiming he could not live without her nocturnal charms, he had arrived at her doorstep the week before. She knew when she was being taken in; in all likelihood, a new scheme to gain riches or importance was on his mind, and he needed her to take a risk on his behalf. This time, he claimed that he had been ill-used and forced into hiding in the interminable warrens of London. He did not even try to persuade; rather, he commanded that she discover ways for him to achieve his ends undetected, and to act on his behalf without his exposure. His cocksure nature angered her.

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