Placing a teapot, two cups and saucers, and a plate of biscuits on a tray, Beth gestured for me to follow her into the parlor. She had a way of carrying herself that was almost regal, especially when compared to her husband, who reminded me of a former football player who had taken a hit or two. Their class differences were especially noticeable when they spoke. Beth’s accent was definitely upper class, while Jack’s was the local Derbyshire dialect.
After pouring the tea into dainty Belleek china cups, Beth explained how it was that the Garrison/Bennet family had managed to evade the entail.
“After George Waggoner’s death, Lucy married Jake Edwards. I’m referring to Austen’s Wickham and Lydia. I’m not sure if the farm is still owned by the Edwards family, but it was right before the First War. Reluctantly, Mrs. Edwards admitted to Margie that the family was the inspiration for the Bennet family. It wasn’t talked up because they didn’t particularly like how the Bennets were portrayed in the book. She thought they were either silly or lazy or, in Lucy’s case, of low moral character.
“Mrs. Edwards allowed Margie to go up into her attic, where she found the letter from Mary to Charlotte in a portable writing desk, what was known as an escritoire. Fortunately for us, Mary never posted the letter to Charlotte. Mrs. Edwards told Margie to take the whole lot, saying that no one in her family cared about old letters and papers. She seemed to want to be rid of them short of actually throwing them on the fire. Margie got as much history out of Mrs. Edwards as she could, but it wasn’t much. She knew that Waggoner’s regiment had been transferred to Canada because Lucy had moved back home, which must have been difficult for everyone, but most especially for Mary. The last person in the world she wanted to live with was Lucy, whom she considered to be a fallen woman because of her hurried marriage with Waggoner.
“After Charlotte married William Chatterton, Jane Austen’s unctuous Mr. Collins, Mary visited with the Chattertons in Kent. When Lucy took up permanent residence at her parents’ home, Mary again visited Charlotte, but she never went home. There is a whole other story about those three living together, but I’ll save that for another time.”
I thanked Beth for what was clearly an invitation to return. Jack had come home about midway through the story but seemed content to let his wife tell it.
“The reason William Chatterton didn’t inherit the estate was simply a matter of Mr. Garrison outliving him. Since the entail stipulated that the heir must be a male, Charlotte could not inherit. After Mr. Garrison’s death, the estate passed to the next male descendant in the family, Jane Garrison and Charles Bingham’s oldest son. That kept the farm in the Garrison family. Charlotte and Mary eventually returned to the village of Bennets End, the book’s Meryton, and lived in a house in the village until their deaths.”
Looking at the grandfather clock in their entryway, I thanked the Crowells for sharing what they knew of the Lacey and Bingham families and for their hospitality. I was pleased I had been invited back because we had barely touched the surface of the story, but I also liked Beth and Jack and wanted to see them again.
On the drive to Pamela’s house, I asked Jack what it was like growing up at Montclair. “Fantastic! My father’s family served as butlers to the Laceys for three generations, and my mother was the housekeeper. By the way, the housekeeper’s job in a house of that size has nothing to do with dusting.
“Except for the cooking, my mother and father saw to everything else in order to keep the house running smoothly, including being in charge of all the servants who didn’t work for Mrs. Bradshaw, the cook, who had her own little fiefdom downstairs. The Laceys entertained a lot, so my parents’ jobs were very demanding. My brother and I were pressed into service when the Laceys had their big affairs. We had our own evening clothes, white gloves and all. We were the cat’s meow,” he said, winking at me. “We’d help the ladies out of their motor cars or their carriages because some people were still traveling by horse and carriage. When some of the male guests started driving their own cars and not using chauffeurs, we were allowed to park them. That was a big deal in those days.
“The Laceys had four children, three boys and a girl. Along with my brother, Tom, we were all great mates — very close in age. After chores, we played football every day during the summer. The second oldest boy, Matthew, and my brother, Tom, were two of the best footballers I’d ever see.”
Arriving at Pamela’s house, Jack opened the car door for me. “Beth thought you might want to have something to read on the way back to town.” He handed me a large brown envelope.
On the train ride to London, I told Pamela about my overnight visit with the Crowells and asked her if she believed that the Laceys were the Darcys.
“A lot of people in Stepton believe it, including my mum. I think a lot of it’s true, but I’ve always had a hard time with all the coincidences. You know, Darcy and the evil Wickham being in Meryton at exactly the same time, and Mr. Collins being Darcy’s aunt’s minister and the Bennets’ cousin. Stuff like that. It’s just too much. But if you look at the big picture, the two families had enough in common so you think maybe Jane Austen had heard about the Laceys and Garrisons and had used them for the Darcys and Bennets.” After listening to Pamela, I felt a bit silly believing any of it. She was absolutely right — too many coincidences.
When I finally settled into bed for the night, I opened the brown envelope. It contained a letter from William Lacey to his cousin, Anne Desmet, who was the novel’s Anne de Bourgh. Her mother, Lady Sylvia Desmet, was Jane Austen’s overbearing aristocrat, Lady Catherine de Bourgh.
26 March 1792
Dear Anne,
Please be assured that I will send Mr. Oldham for you a week Monday as promised. If your mother has any objection, I will come and bring you to London myself. Georgiana is especially eager for your visit, as she wants you to hear the pieces she has been practicing so diligently.
Bingham has taken a lease on a house in the country and will remain there until such time as he finds a property of sufficient acreage to satisfy his passion for horses and hunting. Hopefully, that will be soon, as there is no reason to linger here. He has already befriended many of the neighbourhood families, and, in turn, he has been visited by every gentleman who has a daughter of marriageable age.
The day after my arrival, Bingham insisted that I attend a local assembly. I was in no humour to do so, as I had just come from a visit with Mrs. Manyard regarding her son. I told the lady that it was impossible for me to continue to pay Roger’s gaming debts, and that I had instructed my solicitor to contact the gaming houses he frequents and let it be known that Manyard’s debts would no longer be discharged by his client. Up to this point, I had avoided involving my solicitor because I did not wish to revisit this whole unfortunate affair. I do not blame my father for seeking female companionship after my mother’s death, but he erred in seeking comfort from Mrs. Manyard, a woman of such low birth. I hope my visit will put an end to any further contact.
At the assembly, Bingham met an attractive young lady, the daughter of a gentleman farmer, who seems to have captivated him. He kept insisting that I dance, but as you know, country dances are much closer to athletic events than to actual dancing, and I had no wish to bound about the room in unfamiliar company. Unfortunately, my comment that the only thing worse than dancing was to be forced into conversation with such company was overheard by the young lady’s sister. I considered apologizing but decided that, since I will not be seeing her again, it was of little importance.