Page 181

“Old Mr Goulding! But he is even older than Papa!”

“Just so!” said Lizzy, handing Jane the letter. “Mama writes that she knows which side her bread is buttered on!”

When Lizzy burst out laughing, Jane could not help but join in.

The next day a letter from Mrs Gardiner provided more details on the progress of Mrs Bennet’s romance. Despite talking continuously of all the advantages of Jane’s match since she had been apprised of it, Mrs Bennet had forgotten to tell the Gouldings of the actual date of Jane’s wedding and the fact that she would be accompanying her daughter to Bristol for the first two weeks of the honeymoon. Thus, the gentlemen had arrived for their weekly visit at Longbourn to a potentially deserted manor. They instead discovered Kitty and Lydia absent and Mrs Bennet alone—for Mrs Philips had been delayed that morning in Meryton. As one of the horses harnessed to young Mr Goulding’s curricle had thrown a shoe on the journey from Haye Park, he had walked to the blacksmith with his groom to oversee its restoration upon discovering the younger Bennets not at home. Thus, old Mr Goulding and Mrs Bennet had been left together without a chaperone—if one did not count the servants.

One can only imagine the scene, said Mrs Gardiner, for when Mr Gardiner posted down to Longbourn following an express from his sister Philips, all he could get from Fanny when he pressed her for details were fits of giggling. When William Goulding returned from the blacksmith half an hour later, satisfied that his horse had suffered no permanent injury, he discovered that Haye Park had acquired a new mistress, though not in the way he had envisaged. Yes, true love had found its way and William now had a new mother!

“Fanny and Mr Goulding are to marry from Longbourn; the banns to be read for the first time on Sunday. Old Mr Goulding has also been quite adamant in his wish of providing a home for Kitty and Lydia, so Mr Gardiner has returned both Kitty and Lydia to Hertfordshire. I am counting my blessings.”

“Oh! I am so glad!” said Jane on reading the letter for a second time, for during the first she had trouble taking it all in. “Although Mama and Aunt Philips get along so well, I could not imagine Kitty and Lydia being happy in so snug a house after Longbourn. I thought it likely they each would marry the first officer who fixed his interest on one of them, just to improve their position.”

“So did my uncle, which is why he was planning to keep Kitty in Gracechurch Street to improve her manners and lessen the collusion between our sisters, which was quite alarming him.”

“Oh! I did not know. I wondered why Aunt had underlined Kitty’s name. Have they been so very bad?”

“With no Papa to check them, their conduct has steadily become more outrageous, but Kitty no more so than Lydia. Uncle had merely decided her to be the next Bennet to benefit from lodging in Gracechurch Street. Hence the underline.”

Jane sighed and hoped they might be reined in under the constant presence of their new stepfather. While Lizzy was not so sure, she thought the distance of Haye Park from the militia in Meryton a decided advantage.

The ladies spent the remainder of the day furniture shopping in Bristol, an outing that left Jane so overwhelmed and unable to make a decision that she felt the first crisis of confidence in her abilities as the head of Thorne’s household. There had not been much opportunity to redecorate at Longbourn—all of Mrs Bennet’s pin money had been spent on fashions for herself and her daughters. Lizzy was unfazed by their lack of experience:

“Why do you not just put Kimble in charge of the redecoration? After all, he did arrange the furnishing of your room and the guest room, did he not?”

Jane protested that she should not encroach on his main duties for her husband but swiftly gave in under further goading. The next day the ladies set out with not only Kimble but Finn accompanying them, and from there things proceeded rapidly. After the second outing in Bristol and a day trip to Bath to view the emporia there, all was well on its way to being settled. The ladies gratefully handed over the whole enterprise to the valets who oversaw the constant arrival of goods and tradesmen over the next ten days. Kimble and Finn were very much in favour of Lizzy’s scheme of a sitting room and study with sliding doors between them. Both were furnished in a harmonious colonial style that saluted the relaxed setting of the rose garden while maintaining a dignified air that gave a nod to Thorne’s profession. The ladies were consulted only occasionally when a choice was to be made between this or that fabric or piece of furniture, usually when the valets were at loggerheads. Having their choices limited improved their discernment wonderfully such that Lizzy and Jane joked on the rooms’ completion that they had become quite skilled in decorating.

Towards the end of her sojourn in Bristol, a little morning sickness began to plague Lizzy and thus Jane became aware of her sister’s pregnancy. She was overjoyed, for though she knew Lizzy and Mr Darcy slept together at night, Lizzy had not spoken of the extent of their intimacy. Jane was mortified again by her selfishness on realising all their conversations on conjugal relations had centred on herself. Indeed, once Lizzy was satisfied that all was well in that quarter between Jane and Mr Thorne, the topic had passed away. Lizzy was glad Jane had not pressed her for details of her experience, for she thought Jane might be a little shocked by such incidents as that of the dresser. Lizzy had herself been initially embarrassed by some of her husband’s lovemaking, but his caresses had soon reconciled her to all his dearest wishes.

Lizzy accepted Jane’s heartfelt congratulations but made her promise to keep the knowledge to herself until she began to show. Fairbanks had warned her many conceptions came to nought before the quickening.

The two weeks of the dual honeymoon passed rapidly, with the gentlemen and ladies generally spending their mornings apart and their afternoons together—walking, touring the countryside and attending evening entertainments. Finally, the time of parting was upon them. The Bennet sisters were tearful in their goodbyes. Far more than fifty good miles of road separated Bristol from either of the Darcy residences, but they promised each other to write every week and hoped they might spend a season or two together in London if children did not keep them parted. The Darcys entered their carriage, the steps were put up, and the vehicle slowly drew away, bound for Bruton, where they intended to stay two days with the Elliots.

Thorne’s arm lay protectively round Jane’s shoulder as she waved goodbye. When the carriage disappeared beyond the square, he slid his arm to Jane’s waist.

“Shall we go back inside, my dear?”

“Yes, Benjamin. Let us go to your new study and I will start my first letter to Lizzy.”

Thus began a long and treasured correspondence between the sisters. One particular episode that Jane recorded is especially worth relating.

After a year, Mr Bingley had faded from Jane’s memory and he remained there as an infatuation of her youth, fondly remembered but not too much regretted. During that first year Jane discovered in a round-about way that Charles had married Lady Sophia Amberley and felt a pang of jealousy, but having never met the lady and knowing very little of her, it could not be sustained. She never raised it in her letters to Lizzy; her children and husband employed all her ink. In fact, Mr Bingley was not mentioned at all in her letters until around ten years later. After weaning her third child, Jane ventured to Bath with her husband for a short holiday. They had taken a townhouse with the Elliots in the Royal Crescent for a month as a break from their respective children—the Elliots by then had seven—during which they meant to attend many recitals and assemblies. Thorne would be away most days in Bristol, but he had undertaken to be back in Bath every evening for dinner and any entertainment that Jane desired. The Thornes had by then acquired two of the elliptically sprung carriages—one that they used as a family chariot and the other fitted up as an office. Thorne worked in this vehicle as he travelled back and forward to London as well as to Liverpool where he had opened another branch of his company as the ships began to grow in size and had difficulty passing through the locks of Bristol’s floating harbour. Mr Gardiner proved an invaluable partner in Mr Thorne’s business with the advent of propeller-driven steamships and railways. Thorne-Gardiner was at the forefront of trade.

The Thornes and Elliots were attending a recital on the first night at Bath’s lower assembly rooms when Jane was disturbed by the attentions of a fat balding man who stared at her so rudely that she was obliged to hide herself from his gaze behind her fan. Imagine her chagrin when the man, eyes shining, had the temerity to approach her at the interval and plant a kiss on her gloved hand as she stood beside her husband.

“My dear,” said Mr Thorne in the blandest way, “I think you know Mr Bingley? I seem to recall that he once hired a property in Hertfordshire next to your parents’ estate.”

Jane paled, hardly able to believe her ears, but when Mr Bingley spoke his enthusiastic greetings there could be no mistake. She felt slightly faint as a wave of revulsion gripped her. Gone were his beautiful blond locks, reduced to a few wisps at the back. He was corpulent and his blue eyes were slightly clouded. The man beside him she recognised belatedly as Hurst, for he too was decidedly worse for wear, looking like an old man.

“...and so, we came down so that Hurst could take the waters,” Mr Bingley finished.

Jane had no idea what he had said prior to this last fragment, but she politely enquired of his sisters. They were fine, thank you, keeping Lady Sophia company in the city. Yes, of course, he would pass on her greetings.

Thankfully at that moment Mary came up on Mr Elliot’s arm, saying she was not feeling well and that she had decided to take a chair home. This, Jane would not allow and after bidding Mr Bingley a gracious goodbye, she gratefully escorted her sister home in the carriage, accompanied by their husbands. Mary turned out to have the grippe that was circulating in Bath; but she was nursed carefully by a local doctor and no one else in the household succumbed except a chambermaid.

Of course, Mr Thorne had discovered in the course of his pursuit of Jane that Mr Bingley was his hidden rival for Jane’s affections. He was highly gratified to see that she had got over her tendre for that gentleman. During the course of Mary’s illness, Jane casually enquired of her husband if he was acquainted with Lady Sophia. He was not, but Thorne told her what he knew of the lady—which was not much. He knew far more of her dissolute brothers, whose disreputable exploits were legion, but they were hardly fit for a lady’s ears. He also knew that Bingley’s business had suffered greatly because of the depredations of the Amberleys on his purse, but this he kept to himself, though Jane discovered it later from Lizzy.

Jane only saw Mr Bingley once more before he departed from Bath a week later. She spied him in the distance, strolling away down a path in the Sydney Gardens without Hurst, but arm-in-arm with two young ladies, revealingly clad in light muslins better suited to a ballroom than the light of day. Neither was wearing a bonnet; instead, each sported a tiny coloured parasol, matched to the ribbons around their waists. Both had blonde hair, and their golden ringlets shook as they continuously tittered very loudly, presumably in response to his discourse. When Mary frowned, saying she did not think Mr Bingley’s companions were very genteel and drawing her sister away, Jane made no demur.