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Chapter One

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COLUMBUS, OHIO

JANUARY 1999

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a young man in possession of a wife must be in want of a fortune. However little known the feelings or wishes of a neighborhood might be, on the man’s first entering it, this truth is so well fixed in his mind that any assets he finds he considers as his rightful property.

Every family must have some connection on whom they rest their hopes of betterment. An uncle, a distant cousin, a son bright with promise—to the ordinary run of family members this individual figures, by common if tacit consent, as the savior who will one day offer the rest a miraculous escape from the tedium and humiliations of their everyday lives. That the paragon might have other aspirations rarely occurs to the dreamers; and that he might not have it in his power to rescue all is a possibility never to be contemplated, for to do so would be to invite the death of hope.

For the Bennet family, this repository of idle dreams was Aunt Evelyn.

“Mr. B, great news! Your sister has provided for us at last!”

“Indeed, my dear? Why do you think so?”

“A fat envelope has arrived from Lambtown, California, from an attorney’s office. What else can it mean? What a great thing it’ll be for Lydon!”

Mr. Bennet halted his progress toward his sanctum, the office he had carved out of a corner of the garage. He could think of several things such a missive might portend, and none of them as pleasing as his sister deciding to turn over her fortune to the family of a brother she hadn’t laid eyes on in twenty years. All he said, however, was, “Why Lydon in particular? I hadn’t understood that Evelyn had a particular affection for our youngest son.”

“Well, maybe not; but Lydon’s need is the greatest, of course, for here he is married, and at such a young age, with a wife to support and no doubt children of his own before long.”

Mr. Bennet blanched at this prospect and his frown deepened. “You’d better hand it over, then.” He took the envelope and, deaf to his wife’s protestations, retired with it to the garage.

He was there a long time, and when he rejoined the family circle, just as dinner was ready, he could be seen to be troubled.

As was the common way in the Bennet household, the table this evening was not graced by the attendance of the entire family; they were too many, and their pursuits too various, for togetherness to be either likely or desirable in such a small and shabby room. Young Lydon and his even younger wife, Jenny, were missing, doubtless enjoying the easy hospitality of some of Jenny’s friends from the air force base. Mary was present in body but her mind was elsewhere occupied; from the studiousness of her expression, some recondite theological justification must have been puzzling her, though she knew better than to offer it to the table for debate. Kitty, always a little deflated when Lydon was not present, was indulging her allergies in a good sniff. John was at work, leaving Lizzy to ensure that dinner got on the table despite the state of her mother’s nerves, overset by the miseries of suspense.

Once they were assembled, her curiosity could no longer be suppressed. “You take pleasure in teasing me!” Mrs. Bennet cried. “You have no sympathy for my nerves. What did it say? I’ve been waiting for hours!”

“What did what say, Mama?” asked Kitty, enlivened by the prospect of distraction.

“The letter, my sweet! A letter from a lawyer’s office in Lambtown!”

“Oh, a lawyer. What is there in that to get excited about?”

“What is there to get excited about? Don’t you remember? It was your aunt Evelyn who inherited everything from your second cousin, old Adolphus Bennet. She must be as rich as Croesus, and never a penny of it has she shared. I don’t count her inviting Lizzy to visit in the summers; that’s nothing. But you can count on it, she’s decided to do right by us at last! We’ve waited so long for this day, and suffered with the greatest patience while she enjoyed every luxury in California. Why she took this long, and ignored our needs all these years, I’ll never know; and your father never lifted a finger to get Adolphus’s will overturned, though anyone could see the money was not rightfully hers. But if she’s ready to take care of us now, no word of complaint will pass my lips! In fact, I—”

“What’s the matter, Papa?” Elizabeth interrupted her mother’s raptures without ceremony. “You look angry. Is Aunt Evelyn still crossing swords with you?”

“No, she has laid all the old conflicts to rest,” said Mr. Bennet.

“I knew it! She has provided for us!” Mrs. Bennet crowed.

Mr. Bennet frowned at her. “In fact, she has herself been laid to rest. Messrs. Baldwin and Perry have written to tell me that my sister is dead.”

A short silence ensued. But Mrs. Bennet was made of sterner stuff than to be derailed by unavoidable tragedy. “Well, of course I’m sorry to hear it, but there’s no use crying over spilt milk, I always say. What does the letter say of the will, Mr. B? What does it say of the will?”

Lizzy knew she ought to intervene, but for the moment was unable to do so. Of all the family, she had known Aunt Evelyn the best. Evelyn Bennet, asked to serve in the role of godmother, had taken a strong fancy to the merry infant Elizabeth at her christening, the last time she had visited the Bennets before the quarrel that had caused an irreparable breach between brother and sister. She had remained estranged from Mr. Bennet and the rest of the family for two decades, but when Lizzy was eight years old, Evelyn had petitioned through family intermediaries to be allowed a visit from her eldest niece. Not wishing to close the door entirely on his nearest relation (and seconded by his wife, who already treasured expectations regarding Adolphus’s fortune), Mr. Bennet had agreed to send Lizzy to California for a summer fortnight.

The visit had been a success, and thereafter Lizzy was permitted to spend a part of every summer with her aunt until she was sixteen, when she commenced working during the summers to earn her spending money and save for college. Once she had assured her mother several times that Aunt Evelyn lived in a very modest style, nobody had taken much interest in these visits except her elder brother, John, who had elicited over the years the intelligence that Aunt Evelyn possessed a great many books and had read them all; that Lambtown was a picturesque small town, almost a village, in the Santa Ynez Valley (wherever that might be), a place where the local people for generations had mostly farmed and ranched; and that Lizzy had derived from Aunt Evelyn the love of gardening that eventually became her career.

Not even John knew the strength of Lizzy’s attachment to her aunt. Evelyn Bennet had challenged and expanded her mind, offered her the companionship of intelligent conversation and feminine confidences, and inspired her through the example she embodied of a busy life engaged with the neighborhood she inhabited.

Those summer visits had allowed young Elizabeth to understand that one’s life could be conducted on terms very different from her parents’. It had also afforded her a vision of wealth that bore little relation to the picture of indulgence her mother was now delineating. “Oh! My dears, you can’t imagine how long I’ve dreamed about this moment! No more worrying about where we’ll find the money for the heat! And the clothes we can afford! Only think, Kitty—no more of Lizzy’s castoffs and hand-me-downs for you! Your own gown for the spring dance on the base! And—”

Mary broke in on these effusions. “It would be more to the point to buy Kitty a new Bible, Mother.”

“What would I want with that?” protested Kitty. “At least clothes you can put to some practical use. But Mama, can’t I buy a car?”

Mr. Bennet had listened to them all in gathering wrath. “I must beg all of you not to be spending any fortunes just yet,” said he. He rose from the table. “I’m going back to my office. Lizzy, when you have finished your dinner, please see me there.”

An Obstinate Headstrong Girl

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