Captivated by Youth and Beauty: Mr. Bennet's story

By Noe and Cindy

Mr. Bennet, the very man we are introduced to in Pride and Prejudice, the father of five daughters and husband of a wife with sensitive nerves, was known to spend most of his time in his library as his only refuge from the silliness of the females that overran his home. Now, in his declining years, he says to his favorite daughter:

"Lizzy, I am sure you have heard it said about my reaction to your mother that I was captivated by youth and beauty, as if I were the first man to have his head turned by a pretty face. I freely admit your mother had no rival till she gave birth to her daughters, but all that aside, let me assure you there was much more to our story than the charm of youth and beauty. So, prepare yourself, for you will be the first to hear the full accounting of how the Francis Bennet family came into being."

Sit back and prepare yourself to be captivated by this beautiful love story which eventually makes possible that of his daughter and the famous Mr. Darcy.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Noe and Cindy
• Release date: Mar 13, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386067955

Noe and Cindy

Noe has been married to his first real love for more than 40 years. It was she that urged him to put his writing skills to authoring a novel in April of 2013 based on Pride & Prejudice, “Mr Darcy falls in love.” Noe has never been afraid to admit he loves chick-flicks, being a real gentleman who always treats women with the respect they deserve. It is his romantic side that brought the story of Mr. Darcy to life so we all could see things through Darcy's eyes. Noe's appreciation of Mary Bennet and Georgiana Darcy led to a sequel, "The Sun Also Shines for me," about the two girls working together as sisters on a very special project. After that came "Captivated by Youth and Beauty: Mr. Bennet's story", the tale of how the heart of Lizzy Bennet Darcy's father was won by one lovely young lady. Noe also did the artwork for the covers of his books, another thing Cindy encouraged. He makes woodart too, including a statuette of the image of Darcy depicted on the cover of their book, as well as fine pieces of wood jewelry. Look for them at facebook.com/AuthorsNoeandCindy and on Instagram @noes_expressions.

Book preview

Chapter One

Elizabeth Darcy entered the sunny breakfast room of Pemberley Estates unaware of her surroundings, her mind reflecting deeply on a matter of great concern to her. Mr. and Mrs. Darcy were still so in love that, even after ten years of marriage, they actually rivaled the beaming rays of the sun upon seeing each other in the fresh light of morning, but today the broad smiling face of her husband at this first sight of his lovely wife went unnoticed by her.

My dear, coaxed Darcy, are you unwell? Concern overshadowed his smile as he hurriedly asked, Or is there something about your father that is troubling you? Have you been to see him this morning? Should I send for the doctor?

Elizabeth looked up, her mouth wishing to smile but her heart not allowing it, a certain uneasiness still ruling her demeanor. No, no, my love, I am well. And though I have not been to see Papa this morning, I have no reason to believe he has taken a turn for the worse. As you know, he has been better now that spring has come.

Darcy could not bear to see either pain or worry on his beloved’s face without alleviating it whenever possible. Therefore, this expression that indicated both her mind and heart were anxious could not be observed by him without being tended to. Is there some other matter, then, that has you looking so weighed down? I see you trying to put on a brave face, but your countenance betrays the fact that you are wrestling with uneasy thoughts.

She gazed upon him with tender regard and claimed the chair closest to him at the breakfast table. I am troubled, and it does have to do with my father. My heart may not want to accept it, but I simply cannot deny that he will continue to decline despite all my hopes to the contrary. Though the doctors have given me hope that he could perhaps last another year, I daily try to brace myself for his passing. Darcy’s own mother and father had died many years ago, but the pain of losing one’s beloved parents is never far off. Seeing the sadness in his eyes, Lizzy gratefully acknowledged, You have been so good to my father, Darcy, having him here with us at Pemberley, and I must thank you for all you have done for him. Sighing, she continued, It’s just that, this morning there is something particular that is ... well, I’m not sure exactly how to express it. I might say my mind is disturbed, but that doesn’t seem quite the right word ...

Perhaps if you begin to share your feelings, things will become more clear to you. Darcy took Lizzy’s hand and leaned in, prepared to give her his undivided attention.

Alright, she began, last night, I was reminiscing about how you and I met and the various windings of the path that had to be taken before we finally came together. Those memories made me want very much to relate our story to our children as they grow. It is, after all, the story of our beginning and is very much a part of us, and I realized—if we don’t tell them about it, they would be missing something ... well, something significant about what has made us who we are ... and what is more, I would like to think such things would have special meaning to them. She brushed away a solitary tear that had started its way down her cheek. Anyway, from those thoughts, I was brought to my father and mother. With Mama having died three years ago and now Papa not having much longer to live, the thought crushed me that I have never heard the tale of how they came together. That is, aside from Father’s brief sarcastic remarks that have hinted at this or that, but honestly they cannot truly be taken as a factual narrative.

She laughed, recalling some of his quips he used to tease her mother with and yet, just as quickly, Lizzy began to cry. When he dies, their story will not be told by the last person I know who can tell it. More tears streaked down her cheeks, but she went on, And it strikes me as a sort of tragedy that this part of their life, which in a way is very much a part of my life, should just fade away into oblivion with his death.

Darcy searched her face as he held her hand lovingly. What a marvel you are—my lady with such a lively wit who is also blessed with such deep feelings. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it gently, proposing, I believe it might do your father a great deal of good to recount that part of his life, especially to his favorite daughter.

Wiping away her tears, she cried, Do you really? Rather choked up, Lizzy declared, I was afraid I was just being silly and sentimental.

I suppose you are. That is, being sentimental, not silly ... but if we are not permitted to be sentimental when someone we love and admire approaches the end of their life, then there will never be a fit time for it. And I might ask you, is it so hard to imagine that your father likewise is having such tender feelings of nostalgia as he approaches the end of his life? Talk to him, my love, and let his reaction be your guide.

Elizabeth, in a rush of emotion, fairly sprang from her seat, embracing her husband with complete unreserve. You are such a good and wise man, it is no wonder I love and admire you so! After giving him a kiss on his forehead, she left the room more light-hearted than she entered it, heading directly to see her father.

* * * * *

Taking the tray of tea from the servant, Elizabeth told her, Thank you, Jessie, I would like to take tea in to my father today.

Yes, ma’am, I am sure he would like that, she smiled. I hope he is having a good day.

Elizabeth nodded, and as she walked the rest of the way to her father’s room, many thoughts were going through her mind. Uppermost among them was the hope that she would not somehow make him uneasy—or even something worse, at this time in his life—in order to learn some family history for herself, even though having her father relate it meant so much more to her than simply gathering a few facts about her parents.

Knocking on the door, she was bid to come in. Ah, Lizzy, it is you bringing my breakfast tea, Mr. Bennet grinned, but his voice was weak. My staying with you and Darcy has not been such a drain on your resources that you have had to let go some of your servants, I hope?

Looking quite serious, Lizzy said, Indeed it has, Father. I am even afraid this will be the last cup of tea we will be able to afford. Who knew the addition of one elderly gentleman could have such a consequence on the great house of Pemberley?

In that case, you are being extremely considerate to let me have this cup of tea and biscuits, he said, with ever so slight of a pulling up of the lip in his effort not to betray a smile.

His daughter was so glad to see him in such high spirits this morning, she could not keep up their repartee as she began to laugh. Taking his hand with a gentle squeeze, she replied, If this was the last of the tea, I would make sure it was yours to enjoy.

Getting old and having to face the reality of death has a way of making even a reserved old English gentleman somewhat emotional, for the genuine sentiment of her words made his eyes well up, as he said, And there is no one with whom I would rather share it. He quickly added, I am glad, Lizzy, you come to have tea with me every day. I must say, there is a certain amount of fun to be had being sarcastic with persons who don’t understand the joke, but occasionally one wishes for something back, and it seems you are the only one capable of it. There was almost an imperceptible shaking of his head as he continued, The servants, of course, are too frightened of me, and your sisters ... well, you know your sisters well enough. So it seems no one has ever been able to banter with me as well as my Lizzy.

Elizabeth heard in this the perfect opening, determined to set her plan in motion. Well, I do know you well enough to say you don’t want the tea to become tepid, and she began to pour out. Stealing a glance at her father as she handed the cup over to his side table, she said casually, There are some things about you and your life that I would like to have a clearer picture of, however.

Oh, Lizzy, there are some things that children will always be in the dark about when it comes to their parents.

Looking down to stir her tea, she considered, Could he possibly be making a reference to what I wish to know? ... how else am I to find out what he means if I don’t ask, just as Darcy said? Bravely pressing on, she raised her eyebrows at him and continued, Being a mother now myself, I do understand what you say, but I happened to think the other day how I would want my children to know some things in particular about Darcy and myself.

With a wry smile, he answered, My dear Lizzy, if there is something you wish to ask me, I would suggest you do so sooner rather than later. Not to be melodramatic, but time is not my greatest asset now.

A flash of pain strained her eyes as she said, trying to hide the sad reflection that had brought her to this point, Yes, of course, Father. But if what I ask is prying too far or makes you uncomfortable, all you need do is say.

Well, my child, he replied, intrigued, you have piqued my interest. Just what is it you wish to ask? I would be only too happy to tell you all I know, but don’t forget, I am an old man now and may not remember well enough to satisfy your curiosity.

Elizabeth laughed and rolled her eyes, for though he was old and infirm, his mind was still sharp and clear, which was something she was quite thankful for. But now having his permission to make the inquiry, she found herself caught up just looking at him, and in her mind’s eye a kaleidoscope of memories played before her. The very first recollection that came to mind was of her father holding her in his arms as he walked her about his library pointing to one book after another, praising each in terms that had no meaning to her younger self, though the happy enthusiasm was clear enough. Lizzy couldn’t help but smile that, of all his daughters, Mary alone found the same connection with the written word. Quickly following that memory was the time he had to talk to her in the very same library for making Kitty and Lydia cry over some childish nonsense. She had seen that little glimmer of delight in his eyes and the tiny turn of his lips trying not to smile as he sounded serious and yet proud of her quick wit, though it was a bit too sharp on that particular occasion. Flashing forward, she recalled the night before her first ball and the advice he had given her about any young man who was driven away by a girl with keen intellect not being worth regretting and how she had appreciated his wisdom then.

She wished with all her heart that he would be inclined to relate that time of his life when he and her mother were young. Not just in the hopes that it would do him some good, but how her heart would lighten if she could see that sparkle of youth gleaming in his eye; indeed, she would gladly trade all the riches of Pemberley to have that to hold on to as one of the final memories of this dear man, and what a wonderful part of their heritage it would be to be able to share with her sisters.

He sat with a father’s patience, perhaps with the very same recollections playing out in his own heart, till she finally said, Papa, through the years I have heard bits and pieces of how you and Mother came together and, as you know very well, most of the time the references were said ... well, shall I say, in a tone that would be described as not quite perfectly realistic.

He laughed, complying, So what you are saying is, you would like to hear the real story of how your mother and I came together, without any fanciful embellishments or the usual droll remarks?

Yes, sir, and if I may be permitted to add, it would mean more to me than words could convey.

The request, of course, could be taken in more than one light, but the look in his favorite daughter’s eyes revealed how profoundly heartfelt those words were spoken. "Well, Lizzy, I am sure you have heard it said about my reaction to your mother that I was captivated by youth and beauty, as if I were the first man to have his head turned by a pretty face, he chuckled. I freely admit your mother had no rival till she gave birth to her daughters, but all that aside, let me assure you there was much more to our story than the charm of youth and beauty. So, prepare yourself, for you will be the first to hear the true accounting of how the Francis Bennet family came into being."

Hearing that, Elizabeth made him comfortable, pulling up a chair near him with both heart and mind eager to hear every word.

Chapter Two

Twenty-seven-year-old Francis Bennet opened his eyes from a sleep that could not be described as peaceful. He looked over at the nightstand and once again saw the official-looking letter asking that he come to the office of a certain solicitor by the name of Harlan Friedrichs, on a matter of material interest. Rubbing his eyes, he yawned, "Well, what do you know? I did not dream the whole thing after all. What, pray tell, would one Harlan Friedrichs want with me? And just how am I to understand the phrase, material interest? Can any other phrase be filled with more disquiet-inducing vagueness? Am I about to inherit something of value, or am I being called upon to pay for some reckless relation I have never heard of who has left my name as the person who would make good on his bad habits? Sighing, he thought as he looked around his room, It may perhaps be nothing more than some elderly aunt who remembered my name in her befuddled old age and declared I should have some old family vase ... nothing against dear old Aunt Whomever-it-might-be, but a vase is highly unlikely to find a comfortable home in this apartment."

Material interest, indeed, he muttered again. Throwing the covers off, he got out of bed with annoyance. "Why do these persons of law find pleasure in being so mysterious in their communications? Why can’t they be like the rest of us peons and just say, ‘Please come to my office, I need to try to get you to pay a debt of your long-lost brother!’ Or better still, ‘Come to the office and collect a sum of fifty pounds—and a vase left to you by some old aunt.’" That caused him to chuckle, for Francis had great pride in his own sense of humor.

Looking at himself in the glass after splashing water on his face, he said with a nod of approval, I could do very well with fifty pounds being left to me unconditionally. I might be able to give serious thought to some much-needed personal items. Or I might take myself out on a night of pleasure—have a good meal, a night in a fine hotel, attend a play. Then looking over at the small shelf that harbored his favorite friends, he said, Better yet, I could bring home some fine new editions. That would be splendid! Gazing out into the expanse, he dreamily considered what volumes he would search out to enlarge his small library.

Recalling himself from this dream world of delightful purchases, Mr. Bennet wondered, If the money is left to me on condition, what should I do? Shaking his head in disgust, he went on, "Why would anyone put conditions on leaving a person money? Answer me this, Benefactor—do you want me to have the money, or do you want me to earn it? If that be the case, I believe I might summon all my pride and simply decline to accept, refusing to be someone’s show monkey and dance for them, even if it were for a sum as great as fifty pounds!"

The mere act of walking across the room to begin getting dressed was all it took for Francis Bennet to reconsider just how large a sum fifty pounds is. Well, on second thought, if the condition is not unreasonable, I suppose a jig of some sort would not be too much to ask, he concluded, for at this point, he reminded himself, he had no way of knowing whether he would be a gainer or a loser on this visit, so he set about getting dressed to find out whether he would have reason to rejoice or to regret having heard from this solicitor, Mr. Harlan Friedrichs.

Chapter Three

The address Mr. Bennet had been summoned to was 516 Larkhall Lane and, on this street, we find persons in various attitudes walking either to some place or away from some place. Mr. Francis Bennet was now seen walking with a lively step—some would say a joyous step—and casting our eye back to where he had come from, we see he has just quitted the office of Harlan Friedrichs. What had occurred?

While still in his apartment, and all the way to Larkhall Lane, Francis had practiced a speech of gratitude for even something as useless as a vase. More passionately did he practice explaining why he should not be held responsible for someone else’s debt. What he felt he did not need to prepare for was the walk away from the office. All things considered, that would be most natural, for if the news was not good, he would come out head bowed down, shaking from side to side. If the news was worse than not good—actually bad—he would come out, kick the lamp post, shake his fist in the air, and call down a plague on old so-and-so for not having either the sense or common decency to stay out of debt!

As can be guessed by his present demeanor, however, our gentleman had met with good news, very good news. Stepping into the office in which he had no idea what to expect, he had been greeted graciously by the solicitor, who had informed him of his being next in line as heir of an entail of a nice estate in Hertfordshire, near the town of Meryton. An estate of two thousand a year just for my being Francis Bennet—what delightful news! It could only be made better if I had had to do something for it, something I could boast of years from now. As it is, Uncle Mathias Bennet not having it in himself to find a bride so as to be able to father his own heir... well, well, one hears of such things, but it is always some other fellow to get the good news. The wheels of his mind churning rapidly, Francis began to hurry down the sidewalk, proclaiming, I must say, to keep myself from going the same way as old Uncle Mathias, I shall begin my search at once for a young lady with whom to share my good fortune!

Before proceeding off on this most important endeavor, while passing by a small city park, he sat down, looked up at the big blue sky and considered, "How much bluer the sky must be out in the country ... no one enjoys the sky like a country gentleman. Oh my—country gentleman—how fine that sounds! That is the life I was meant to live, not this hustle and bustle of the city with people living one on top of the other, neighbors so