Unwilling E-book

3 December, 1811
7 Days After the Netherfield Ball
Longbourn, Hertfordshire

Thomas Bennet sat in his study facing his old friend Withers, a man he had known since they were boys together and who was a physician in the next town. Once a month, they would meet for a game of chess and a glass of port to discuss old times and new discoveries. Today, after their game, which Withers happily won, Bennet asked his friend if he wouldn’t mind giving him a bit of an examination. He’d had some chest pain lately, and though he thought it was likely nothing, it was frequent enough that he thought he should bring it up.
After an examination lying on the divan in his bookroom, Bennet sat up and retied his cravat and pulled his jacket back on while his old friend looked on worriedly. Finally, Withers told Bennet what he suspected, as much as it pained him.
Thomas Bennet’s heart was failing and he wasn’t long for this earth.
“Are you sure?” asked Mr. Bennet.
“I’m sorry, Bennet. I know it isn’t welcome news. But with any luck, you will have another year, possibly two. It could be more. These things aren’t always predictable.”
Mr. Bennet nodded slowly. “Is there anything to be done?” he asked.
“I’m afraid there isn’t much. Relaxation, a calm environment. Some say the seaside is restorative. Perhaps your family is due for a holiday.”
Mr. Bennet nodded again, his eyes on the floor.
The physician held out his hand. “Don’t hesitate to call for me if you experience further problems. I will attend you as soon as possible.”
“Thank you, Withers.”
“Of course. Take care, Bennet.” The physician left the room and closed the door quietly behind him.
Thomas Bennet sat stunned, staring out the window for he knew not how long, wondering what would become of him. Would he go quietly in his sleep? Would he collapse on his horse in a far off field, not to be found until it was too late? And his girls! Five daughters between the ages of fifteen and twenty-one. What would become of them? What of Jane and Lizzy? His two most sensible daughters did not deserve the life that was about to be thrust upon them.
After a poor night’s sleep, Bennet rose early with a new determination.
He may have preferred to ignore the world, but that did not mean he didn’t know how it worked. His wife had a meager portion. Her two brothers would surely assist, and perhaps Collins could be worked on for something, but he couldn’t be sure. His brother Gardiner was successful, true, but his house was not large enough to suddenly fit in six grown women.
No, he knew how it would be. His wife would become even sillier than she already was and would continue to throw his daughters at every possible gentleman that came within a hundred yards of them. Now was the time to think and plan.
He was ever good at thinking; of thinking, he’d had no lack. But what he thought about before his diagnosis and what he thought about now were very different topics indeed. He must now use his considerable powers of mind to find his daughters husbands—good ones. Ones who would look after his widow when he was gone. Failing that, he needed to prepare them to earn their way in the world, if it came to it. He imagined Mrs. Bennet could live with her sister Phillips, and possibly Kitty and Lydia with her, though it would be tight. His three elder daughters could move to London with his brother Gardiner. If only one of them could marry, even moderately well, it would widen their social sphere and show that the girls were marriageable.