Posted on Monday, 3 July 2000

Mr. Edmund Bennet sat in his favorite chair in his beloved library in his childhood home of Longbourn. Above the ceiling was his wife's bedchamber, where Gertrude lay ill.

Unbeknownst to anyone else, Gertrude Bennet's illness had been very hard on Mr. Bennet. Even his family supposed him to be indifferent to his wife, and Mr. Bennet sometimes questioned whether she knew it herself how much he adored her. Gerdie was admittedly a very silly creature, indeed, and she had raised five very silly daughters.

Though, he thought, only one really had come out the worse for it, and there was perhaps hope for her as well, yet. He hated to think of leaving the world worse off than when he had been brought into it.

Yes, he was leaving soon, too. He could feel it, now. His heart slowly growing more tired with each passing day. But even after two and thirty long years of marriage, he could still never deny Mrs. Bennet anything. And he had promised her long ago, when Mr. Bingley came to town, that she would not have to be there when Longbourn left the Bennet line. He had promised to outlive her, and that was what he intended to do. Only, his body had been protesting for the past five years. He did what he could to keep his strength up, and not even his Lizzy knew that he was merely counting the hours until her departure, when he could follow suit.

Ah, yes. Edmund Bennet loved his wife dearly, though he hated to own it. She had been a lovely girl of seventeen, and he a young man of five and twenty, just come into his inheritance.

His sister Violet had conned him into escorting her to town where they ran into one of her new acquaintances, Miss Gertrude Gardiner, and her brother, James Gardiner. Edmund had fallen instantly in love with the blonde haired, brown eyed, rosy complexioned, vibrant young woman. The sun seemed meant to bring glory to her hair and a sparkle to her eyes.

The first glimpse he caught of her was as Gertrude was admiring a pair of gloves that she had not the pocket money for. Her brow furrowed, her lip protruded, and Edmund knew there was nothing else in the world he cared to do anymore, but to please the goddess before him and earn one of her charming smiles.

When his sister introduced them, he was overjoyed and immediately invited them to a dinner party that his mother was hosting on Wednesday next. The Gardiners readily agreed, and presently left the shop.

Upon their exit, Violet questioned whether their mother knew of this dinner party, to which Edmund replied, "Of course not."

He had done something rather silly afterwards. As his sister was detained looking at bonnets, he impetuously snatched up the tan gloves and purchased them. She, of course, might just as easily return the next day and purchase the very same gloves, but Edmund wished to be the one to provide them until death did they part.

Gertrude had loved Longbourn as well, and as Edmund watched her at the dinner party, he could not help but picture her at the head of the table, facing him, and how well the image suited her. Gerdie had always loved Longbourn, from that very first night at the dinner party, which was part of the reason Mr. Bennet was determined to outlive her. It would have killed her to see Longbourn taken away from the Bennets and her family. She loved Longbourn just as much as her husband, and had just as much sentiment in her heart for the old home.

Unfortunately, the Gardiners were not residents of Meryton, and so Edmund's courtship of Gertrude was delayed. He met her during the season in London once more, where they continued their friendship, and when once more they visited their relatives in Meryton, Edmund requested the hand of the beautiful Gertrude, which he was at once granted, the sum of one thousand pounds and all. Gerdie had requested an extravagant wedding, which Edmund loved letting her have and loved watching her plan.

He never did give her the gloves, though he still had them. They were tucked away in his desk, to remind him of her while he was in the library, and she was having a bout of nerves. To remind him of when she had been angelic and perfect. He still caught glimpses of his beloved Gerdie every once in awhile, though she kept them hidden away so often that it was hardly recognizable when they once more appeared. Having children had made her unreasonably fussy, though Edmund did not regret any of his daughters, and he did not regret never having an heir.

Jane was a lovely and caring wife with a darling boy. Elizabeth had become a loyal spouse and loving mother of four. Mary, despite her bookish ways and mousy looks, and married her Uncle Gardiner's clerk, and was quite happy as well. Kitty, or Catherine, once away from her youngest sister, had become a sensible woman and married a shopkeeper; they now had a little girl that was the picture of her Grandmother Bennet. Lydia had recently been widowed, had no children, and was living with Jane and her husband, eagerly awaiting the time when she might return to society, as she was only two and twenty, and didn't 'look a day over seventeen, anyway!'

Mr. Bennet groaned and hoped that Jane might have some influence over Lydia.

A hasty knock interrupted his reverie.

"Yes?" he croaked.

"Mr. Bennet, the Missus isn't doing very well. I...I think it's-- "

Mr. Bennet spared her from having to say 'Come say goodbye.' "Yes, Hill. I'm on my way up." Hill presently left, and Mr. Bennet followed, only to pause in the door of the library and turn round once more. The thought that Gerdie might not know that he loved her had been weighing heavily on his mind. He had to let her know. Mr. Bennet hurried back to his desk and unlocked the top left-hand drawer. He pulled out an extremely old, yet almost like new, pair of kid gloves, then hurried as fast as his old legs would carry him, to the floor above. To his Gerdie.

Outside her room, Edmund knew that it must be very near the end. He was no longer scared for her, or for himself. He knew it was time. He had admittedly been living on borrowed time.

Jane must have heard him arrive, for she hurried out of the bedchamber, hand over mouth, tears streaming from her eyes. She sat next to Lizzy, who continued to stare silently into nothingness as she absently stroked Jane's hand. Kitty, or rather Catherine, as she had become over the past few years, wept silently into a handkerchief. Mary had even closed her book, and her head was bent low over it. Lydia looked bored.

Perhaps there is not much hope for her after all. Mr. Bennet concluded. Still, four of five is not very badly done.

Edmund left the scene of his daughters' grieving and entered his wife's chamber.

"Hello, Gerdie," he greeted softly, as he sat on the edge of her bed and took her hand.

"Oh!" she exclaimed weakly. "Oh, Edmund. I do not know when you last called me Gerdie. It has been so long."

"It has been too long, my dear. I am sorry."

"You...you are afraid that I do not know."

"That you do not kno-- " Gerdie always could read my mind. "Yes," he replied simply.

"Silly man," she said with effort. "H...how could I not? It...It is written all over your face, everyday. You...you may be able to hide it from our girls. But...never from me, you old coot. Try as you might."

"I do love you, Gerdie."

"And I you."

"I shall miss you."

"No you shan't. You'll be leaving right after I."

How does she know?

"Don't think you can...h-hide anything from me, Ed, dear. I-I'm sorry I've been so...bothersome...these past years."

"I didn't mind, Gerdie. I loved you all the more for your worrying. I'm just sorry I never told you so."

"S-Stop apologizing, Ed. We knew...in our hearts. And the most important thing...is that our...our girls...are happy. And they...are."

"Yes, my dear Gerdie, they are very merry, indeed."

"You...you know that I...why I always preferred Lydia, don't you?"

Mr. Bennet nodded, but Gertrude wanted to make sure he understood.

"Lydia...still needed someone to look after her. And that is what I intended to do. But with two girls past twenty, I...I am ashamed to admit I felt myself getting old. And I wanted to go back to my youth. Lydia loved soldiers, and so had I, to an extent. I...I suppose I was lonesome for company. I...I should never have let her go, so."

"Tush! Jane and Lizzy will take care of her!"

"Oh, Jane! Beautiful Jane, and brave Lizzy. Lizzy...she always frightened me. She...didn't need me to take care of her."

"Shall I go get the girls?"

"Yes, one...by one. Jane, first."

Mr. Bennet stepped into the hall and summoned Jane. "Your mother wishes to speak with you, my dear."

Jane entered quietly, and Mr. Bennet made to leave.

"No, Edmund. You stay. You help. This is for you, too."

Jane gasped at the use of her father's Christian name. Never had she heard her parents speak so familiarly with one another.

"Jane," Mrs. Bennet whispered. "Come sit."

Jane obeyed.

"You're a lovely girl, Jane. And such a wonderful husband! I couldn't be happier for you. But I must insist that you and Mr. Bingley have more children, my dear."

"Mamma, we are trying," Jane blushed. "Charles would like a girl."

"A girl? Whatever does Mr. Bingley want a girl for? Nonsense. Have yourself another boy. He will appreciate it much more in the long run when he has boys to take hunting and you may pay visits without having to worry about little girls interfering."

"Did we interfere, Mother?" Jane whispered, head bent.

"Of course, Jane! But that is what little girls are for, I suppose. Though you were always very well behaved. Oh, but Jane, this is not the point. I just wanted to say that I am very happy for you, and I am very glad you are happily situated."

"Thank you, Mamma," Jane began to cry. "But you must not talk so! You will be well soon, of that I am sure!"

"Tush, girl! Send in...Lizzy, if you please, Jane dear."

"Yes, Mamma."

Edmund pulled his eldest daughter aside before allowing her to leave. "Jane, I'm very proud of you. You're a fine young woman and a wonderful mother," he kissed her forehead and sent her out of the room.

Elizabeth Darcy entered next, very slowly, and hesitantly sat on the edge of her mother's bed.

"Hello, Mamma."

"Oh, Elizabeth. Sweet girl."

"I deserve no such praise, Mamma. I have done nothing."

"You've done so well for yourself! And I don't mean only by marrying Mr. Darcy, though that does help a great deal. You have become a beautiful woman. Mr. Darcy is a fine man."

"Thank you, Mamma. I believe so as well."

"Yes, yes, Lizzy. I...I am very sorry I was not more attentive to you than I was. When you were younger, you know. You deserved more."

Elizabeth was stunned. Was her mother being truly genuine? "Thank you, Mamma."

"I am happy for you."

"Thank you, Mamma."

Elizabeth choked back tears that were quickly forming. These were possibly the first kind words her mother had spoken to her. She just wished that had not been her last.

"I will attend you later, Mamma."

"Goodbye, Lizzy, dear girl."

"Goodnight, Mamma. Shall I send in Mary?"

"Yes, please do."

Edmund took his chance and pulled his favorite daughter aside near the door. "My dearest Lizzy. The loveliest woman in the world. And you are truly a woman. Not the little girl I used to help climb trees and ride horses. I'm very proud of you, Lizzy. You could not have done better for yourself in any possible way. With each new road, you have chosen the correct path."

"Such praise, Papa! I shall not be able to bear it! My heart breaks..."

"I will end, then. Just know that I love you, my Lizzy."

"And I, my father," Elizabeth let one or two tears escape as her father embraced her and kissed her forehead, then sent her on her way.

"Mamma, you should be resting. Have you not had enough talking?"

"Hush, Mary, and come sit by your mother. I would speak with you."

Mary settled herself primly in the seat her two elder sisters had occupied minutes earlier.

"I must admit that I have never been able to understand this new, coming of age, intelligent woman, Mary. Your love of books and learning is beyond me. But...I am very proud to be able to say that one of my daughters was not so backward as I. I believe you may set a trend, my dear. You are all brilliant young ladies, and I do not see that the world could let you pass by. You have also done very well for yourself, and I am entirely glad that the odious Mr. Collins did not apply for your hand, even if Longbourn will be leaving the Bennets. You are much better off with Mr. Lancaster. He is a promising young man."

"Thank you, Mamma."

"Do...Do not...let your children only read books, Mary. Let them be active. I may approve of your studies, but I do not approve of the constant pursuit of them. I am glad you have taken time for other things, now."

"I shall not make the same mistake with my children, Mamma. I promise."

"You're a good girl, Mary. I am happy for you, as well. Send Kitty in now, dear girl."

"Yes, Mamma."

"I could not be prouder of you, either, Mary," Edmund said as he walked with his middle daughter to the door. "I know that you shall be fine without your parents here."

"But, Papa! You are in fine health, and Mamma shall recover! You shall see!"

"Hush, Mary. We old ones know when time is passing. Send your sister in."

Mr. Bennet kissed Mary's forehead as well, then escorted Catherine to her mother's bed.

"Are you quite comfortable, Mamma?"

"Yes, girl, yes."

"Is there anything you need?"

"N-"

"Another blanket, perhaps?"

"Hush, girl, before my nerves get the better of me!"

"Yes, Mamma."

"Now, Kitty--I'm sorry I never could get used to calling you Catherine again--But, my dear girl, I am very proud of you. Regardless of your sister, you have become a very fine woman, and a very good wife and mother. I am very glad that you went to stay with Lizzy, I think it did you a world of good."

"Thank you, Mamma."

"And I am sorry that I showed Lydia more attention than you."

Catherine began to protest.

"No, no. It is entirely true. I...I suppose that I thought that the older girls would take care of you while I kept an eye on Lydia. But I should have done it myself. You're a lovely young woman, now."

"Thank you, Mamma."

"Speak with your father, now, and send in Lydia when you leave."

"Catherine, your mother is right, you know. We are both very proud of the sensible woman you have become. You'll always be our little Kitty, though."

"Thank you, Papa."

He kissed her and sent her out of the room to fetch Lydia.

Mr. Bennet espied Lydia's face as she slowly opened the door and nearly took her over his knee. She looked in good humor, but once the door opened wider, she put on a show that would stop traffic in London.

"Oh, Mamma! My beloved Mamma! How wretched I feel for you! It is not fair! It is not fair!" Lydia threw herself onto the edge of the bed, sobbing. "What shall we ever do without you?"

"Lydia, collect yourself," Mr. Bennet harshly reprimanded.

"Oh, Father! How can you be so unfeeling? My beloved Mamma shall not be with us much longer, and you don't care a snit!"

"Lydia! Lydia, enough!" Mrs. Bennet halted her. "I don't want to hear you speaking that way! It is not fit for a lady to do so. You shall never catch another husband if you keep such an impertinent tongue in your head."

"I am sorry, Mamma." Lydia sniffed and 'attempted' to dry her eyes.

"I am sorry I spoiled you so, Lydia."

"What?"

"I should not have let you have your own way so much. You are a spoiled child, Lydia, and it is my fault, entirely. You have many things to learn, still, about life. I know Jane will be there to guide you."

"Mamma, you are being cryptic. I am not spoiled!"

Edmund chuckled openly, and Gertrude tried not to smile too much. "Lydia, it is time someone told you the truth. You shall never catch another husband unless you begin acting more like your sisters. Look at how they act and ask yourself why they do such things. When the answer comes to you, you will understand what I mean. Do not end up like your Mamma, always fussing and fretting."

"Oh, I shall not do that, Mamma! I worry about nothing!"

"Yes, I know." Mrs. Bennet sighed. "Despite everything I have just said, I am proud of you, anyway. I am proud of you because I know there is potential in you to become a wonderful person."

"Your mother is right, Lydia. Take lessons from your sisters and become the woman we know you truly are. Be a good girl, my dear." Mr. Bennet kissed his youngest daughter's forehead and sent her out of the room, as well.

"I am very proud of you, too, Gerdie."

"I have been doing much thinking of late."

"That is evident in your speeches to your daughters."

Mrs. Bennet smiled ruefully. "I have no regrets, Edmund."

"Nor do I, Gerdie."

"Come sit with me." Mr. Bennet sat on the edge of his wife's bed and looked around. He had not entered her room in at least twenty years. "What is that you have got in your pocket?"

Mr. Bennet realized he still had the gloves with him, and he pulled them out of his pocket, laughing.

"I doubt you remember these."

"Gloves?"

"Yes. They're the gloves you wanted the first day I met you. The ones you didn't have the money with you for."

"Oh, Heavens! I had quite forgotten about them. I scarcely remember. I...they are the most wretched gloves, aren't they? How gauche!" She laughed as she shakily put them on. "I...I remember them vaguely. I mostly remember glimpsing you out of the corner of my eye and wishing that Violet would introduce us. I had never known she had such a handsome brother! I was jealous at first because I thought you were her beau. I was in love with you from the very moment I saw you."

"And I you. Do you remember the dinner party I invited you to that day?"

"Yes."

"There hadn't been one planned. My mother realized what was going on, so she put one together at the last moment for me."

"Did she really?"

Mr. Bennet nodded.

"Oh, Edmund. We have made so many mistakes."

"Yes. But I think they have all been eradicated, now." He took his wife's hand.

"Yes." Mrs. Bennet let a few tears escape her eyes and there was a moment of silence before she changed subjects. "Thank you for waiting."

"I know you cannot live without me, my dear." Mr. Bennet understood and made a strained attempt at humor.

It received the reaction he had hoped for. "Oh, Edmund! You and your teasing ways. You always did take delight in vexing me."

"It has been a pleasure to do so these past thirty-two years."

"Well, you are welcome. You know, Lizzy gets that from you."

Mr. Bennet smiled at the thought of his precious daughter.

"Jane is the picture of her mother."

"We...we did very well with those two, did we not?"

"No parent could have done better."

"And the other two have turned out well, also."

"Yes. I think we have done very well for ourselves."

"But Lydia...that is all my fault."

"No. There is hope for her yet. Her sisters will be a tremendous influence."

"I hope so, Edmund."

"You know, you're still beautiful, Gerdie. After all these years, you're still the beautiful bride I married."

"And you are my shining knight. Edmund, I...I'm..."

"I know. Go to sleep. I love you, Gerdie."

"I love you, Edmund," Gertrude Bennet murmured as she closed her eyes. A few minutes later the soft, shallow breathing that comes with sleep stopped, and Gertrude's hand became limp.

Mr. Bennet wiped the tear from his eye as he kissed his Gerdie one last time, saying goodbye. As he exited the room, his five daughters looked up at him with question in their eyes. He slowly nodded his head, and proceeded down the stairs to his library. His heart felt tight and he was having difficulty breathing as he sat in his old chair.

As he sat there, trying to catch his breath, he closed his eyes and began remembering.

"I now pronounce you man and wife..." His beautiful bride blushed as he took her hand and led her to the awaiting carriage.



"Gertrude, I am so angry with you right now I could scream!"

"Edmund, stop yelling at me! Stop! Please!" she sobbed.

He softened, and took his wife into his arms.

"Edmund, we're going to have a baby!"

"What?"

"We're going to have a baby!"

"A baby? You're?"

"Yes!"

"I'm so sorry I was angry. Oh, my darling Gerdie! A baby!"



"Mr. Bennet you have a lovely baby girl."

"My little Jane Violet Bennet!"

"Congratulations, again, Mr. Bennet! You have another little girl!"

"Hello, Elizabeth Anne Bennet."



"Papa!"



"Congratulations, Mr. Bennet! You're a father of three little girls, now."

"My daughter Mary Louise Bennet."



"Papa!"



"Mr. Bennet, congratulations! Another girl for you."

"Tiny Catherine Rose Bennet."



"Papa!"



"Mr. Bennet, your fifth and last Bennet girl! Congratulations!"

"My final child, Lydia Marie Bennet."



"Papa!"



"Papa!"



Soft golden waves and dark bouncy curls.



Shining blue seas and sparkling brown puddles.



Messy, lovable faces with little button noses.



Small, soft, chubby, eager little hands.



Ten tiny, little, perfect, pink toes.



Miniature dresses and shoes.



Colorful ribbons and frills.



"I drew this for you, Papa!"



"Bindi and I jumped the fence, Papa!"



"I sang it for you, Papa!"



"I made this for you!"



"My dolly needs a kiss!"



"I fell out of the tree!"



"I read it all the way through last night! I loved it!"



"Je t'adore, mon pere!"



"How do you do this one?"



"Can I keep it? Can I keep the kitty?"



"I love him, Papa."



"He is truly the best of men."



"He proposed and I have accepted."



"May we be married?"



"You're going to be a grandfather, Papa."



"I'm going to have a baby."



"We named him after you, Papa. Charles Edmund Darcy."



"I love you, Papa."



"I love you, Papa."



"I love you, Papa."



"I love you, Papa."



"I love you, Papa."



"I do love you, Gerdie."

"And I you."

"I shall miss you."

"No you shan't. You will be leaving right after I."



Mr. Bennet smiled in his sleep.

"Hello, again, Gerdie."

"Welcome home, Edmund."

The End.