Attempted Compromises (Pride and Prejudice “What if?” Variations)

Prologue

Longbourn, 1797

T he nursery was filled with the sounds of laughter and mischief as little Elizabeth Bennet darted around the room, her hair flying in every direction. Her nurse, Mrs. McGinty, sighed in exasperation, clutching a tiny toothbrush and attempting, yet again, to call the lively six-year-old to order.

"Miss Elizabeth! You must come here at once!" Mrs. McGinty ordered, trying to hide her exhaustion behind a stern tone. Elizabeth only giggled, racing around the table as Mrs. McGinty tried in vain to catch her.

"No, I don’t want it! It tastes awful!” Elizabeth cried, her small face twisted in defiance. She held her hands over her mouth, shaking her head wildly as she continued to evade the nurse’s grasp.

Mrs. McGinty tried to reason with her, switching to a gentler tone. “But teeth must be cleaned every night, my dear. Otherwise, they’ll get all sorts of nasties inside them, and then you’ll have a dreadful ache.”

“No, they won’t!” Elizabeth replied, her voice muffled from behind her hands. “My teeth are strong as anything, and they don’t need to be cleaned!”

Mrs. McGinty closed her eyes and sighed, finally sitting down in defeat as Elizabeth darted into the corner with triumphant glee. “You are the most stubborn child I’ve ever known, Miss Elizabeth Bennet,” she muttered under her breath.

Two nights later, the house was quiet under a blanket of midnight darkness. All was still, save for the muffled sounds of sobbing coming from the little bed in the nursery.

Elizabeth whimpered as she clutched her aching jaw, tears streaming down her face. She buried her head in the pillow, but the pain only grew sharper, piercing her with every throb. Her mother’s gentle snores were coming from down the hall, and after what felt like an eternity, Elizabeth gave up on being brave and started wailing as loudly as her little lungs would allow.

Moments later, Mrs. Bennet rushed into the room, her nightcap askew and her face marked with sleep. She lit a candle and leaned over her daughter’s bed, frowning in a mixture of irritation and worry.

“Good heavens, child! What on earth is the matter?” she exclaimed, touching Elizabeth’s tear-streaked cheek.

“It hurts, Mama,” Elizabeth sobbed, pointing to the swollen side of her jaw. “It hurts so, so badly!”

“Oh, dear.” Mrs. Bennet sighed, her patience wearing thin. “I knew this would happen if you kept on refusing to let Nurse clean your teeth! Very well, I shall send for the apothecary.”

Within the hour, the apothecary, Mr. Jones, arrived, his face lined with both wisdom and weariness. Mr. Bennet— disturbed from his heavy slumber— ushered him into the nursery, where Elizabeth lay curled up next to her mother, still crying and clutching her cheek.

“Ah, Miss Elizabeth,” Mr. Jones said kindly, setting his bag on the table. “Let’s have a look at this troublesome tooth, shall we?”

Elizabeth, now exhausted and miserable, opened her mouth just enough for Mr. Jones to peer inside. He held the candle close and examined her little teeth with a practiced eye. After a moment, he nodded gravely and stepped back.

“Just as I thought,” he announced. “It’s a rotten tooth, caused by a lack of proper cleaning.” He glanced over at Mrs. McGinty, who stood with her head bowed, wringing her hands.

Mrs. Bennet sighed heavily, crossing her arms. “I warned her of this very thing,” she said, glancing at Mrs. McGinty. “How could you let it get to this point?”

Mrs. McGinty looked up, her face flushed. “Begging your pardon, ma’am, but Miss Elizabeth is… well, she’s a handful. She runs wild, and no amount of coaxing or reasoning can make her do what she doesn’t want to.”

Mr. Jones raised a hand, silencing the exchange. “It’s lucky this isn’t a permanent tooth, so we can pull it without much trouble. However,” he said, turning to Elizabeth, “it will hurt quite a bit, as it’s deep in the back and not loose at all.”

Elizabeth’s eyes widened in fear, and she whimpered, clutching her mother’s hand. Mrs. Bennet sighed and stroked her daughter’s hair.

“Mr. Jones, do you have something to ease her pain?” Mrs. Bennet asked. “Surely there’s something to make it more bearable.”

Mr. Jones nodded. “Laudanum, madam. It should help her relax enough to fall asleep, and then I can remove the tooth.”

He prepared a cup of weak tea and added a drop of laudanum, handing it to Mrs. Bennet. “Now, Miss Elizabeth,” he said, turning his attention to the little girl, “I want you to drink half of this. It’ll help you feel very sleepy.”

Elizabeth obediently took the cup, sipping the bitter mixture with a grimace. “It tastes terrible,” she mumbled, her face twisted in displeasure.

“Yes, yes,” her mother said, smoothing Elizabeth’s hair. “Just drink up, and soon you won’t feel the ache at all.”

After Elizabeth finished half the cup, they waited, watching as she lay back against her pillows. But as fifteen minutes passed, it was clear that the laudanum had done nothing to lull her into slumber. Instead, Elizabeth continued to squirm in discomfort, her eyes still wide open.

Mr. Jones frowned, glancing at his pocket watch. “That should have been more than enough to ease her into sleep,” he murmured, shaking his head. “Well, best not to take chances. Miss Elizabeth, drink the rest of it, and then try to close your eyes.”

Obediently, Elizabeth drank the rest of the tea, pulling a face at the bitter taste. Another fifteen minutes passed, yet she was still wide awake, wriggling on the bed and clutching her cheek as she whimpered in pain.

“Strange,” Mr. Jones muttered to himself, scratching his chin. “Well, there’s nothing for it. We’ll try another drop, though that should be more than enough for a child her age.”

He began to pour a fresh cup, but Elizabeth started crying. “No more tea! My belly hurts!”

“Just a few more swallows, my dear,” Mr. Jones said, putting just a dash of tea into the cup and tipping a drop of laudanum in. “It’ll taste quite nasty this time, but there’s not much of it. There’s a good girl.”

Sniffling, Elizabeth obeyed, tipping the small bit of tea back into her mouth. Her face screwed up, and she looked as if she were going to spit it out, but then she swiftly gulped it down. She lay back with her face twisted in pain and exhaustion.

After a few more minutes, the effects of the laudanum began to take hold. Elizabeth’s eyelids drooped, but she didn’t quite fall asleep. Instead, she started giggling softly, her words slurring as she looked around the room in a dreamy, dazed state.

“Mama… I think I’m flying,” she murmured, her small hands reaching out to grab at imaginary shapes in the air.

Mrs. Bennet sighed in relief, brushing a stray hair away from her daughter’s face. “Well, at least she’s calm,” she said, casting an anxious glance at Mr. Jones.

“Indeed,” Mr. Jones replied with a nod. “Let’s proceed before she becomes fully aware again.”

With her hands still reaching and her head swaying, Elizabeth barely noticed as Mr. Jones and Mr. Bennet prepared her for the extraction. Mr. Bennet gently held her shoulders, while Hill, the footman, positioned himself at her side to keep her head steady. Mr. Jones took his pliers in hand and gave a solemn nod to both men.

As the cold metal touched her aching tooth, Elizabeth’s eyes shot open, and she let out a piercing scream, thrashing against the hands that held her in place. Her arms flailed wildly, her little fists pounding against her father’s chest.

“No! It hurts! Stop, please!” she shrieked, her voice hoarse with pain and fear.

“Hold her steady!” Mr. Jones called, gritting his teeth as he worked to secure his grip. Elizabeth’s cries filled the room, echoing through the house as the pliers clamped down firmly on the stubborn tooth.

With a final, wrenching tug, the tooth came free, and Elizabeth let out a whimpering sob, her small body sagging as the pain receded. Mr. Jones quickly stuffed a piece of cotton into the bleeding gap, applying gentle pressure to stem the flow.

“There now, my dear,” he murmured softly. “It’s all over. The bad tooth is gone.”

Elizabeth lay back, exhausted and trembling, her chest rising and falling in shaky breaths. Her cheeks were wet with tears, and her voice was just above a whisper as she spoke.

“It… it still hurts,” she said, her face crumpling as fresh tears welled up.

Mr. Jones patted her hand gently. “Yes, my dear, it will hurt a little while longer, but it’s much better now. The worst of the pain will fade soon.”

Elizabeth nodded, closing her eyes as she tried to calm her breathing. The laudanum, though ineffective in putting her fully to sleep, seemed to soften the edges of the pain enough that she could bear it. She stayed awake for another hour, her small hand clutching her mother’s. She whimpered occasionally, but the pain was duller, no longer the sharp ache that had kept her awake.

Mrs. Bennet and Mr. Jones sat beside her until she drifted into a light sleep, her soft breathing filling the room as the night settled around them. As he packed his things to leave, Mr. Jones glanced back at Elizabeth, a look of concern flickering in his eyes.

“A curious child,” he murmured to himself as he left. “Very curious indeed.”

Longbourn, 1802

A bright, sunny afternoon found the children of Meryton gathered near the great old oak on the edge of the Lucas property. Elizabeth Bennet, now eleven, was in the center of a lively group, her brown curls bouncing as she laughed and chatted. Nearby, Jane stood with Charlotte Lucas and some of the other girls, watching with a mixture of interest and concern as the boys dared one another to climb the enormous tree.

One of the Lucas boys, Thomas, puffed out his chest and pointed up. "I dare you, Ned Goulding, to climb all the way to the top!"

The Goulding boy glanced up at the lofty branches and shook his head, laughing nervously. “No one could climb that high—it’s impossible!”

Elizabeth’s ears perked up at his remark, and she stepped forward, hands on her hips. “I could climb it!” she declared, her voice brimming with confidence.

“Oh, Lizzy, don’t,” Jane pleaded, a worried look in her soft blue eyes. “It’s dangerous.”

Elizabeth scoffed, her chin held high. “It’s not dangerous. You’ll see!” And with that, she grabbed the lowest branch, determined to prove her bravery.

Jane, standing beside her with a concerned expression, reached out to tug on Elizabeth’s sleeve. “Lizzy, don’t—please. You don’t have to prove anything to anyone.”

Elizabeth only grinned, flashing a mischievous look at her companions. “Oh, come now! What’s life without a little adventure?” She gave Jane and Charlotte a cheeky wink before adjusting her grip and pulling herself up with ease. The girls on the ground exchanged anxious glances, but Elizabeth paid them no mind as she climbed higher and higher, her limbs agile and quick.

“Elizabeth!” Charlotte called from below, shielding her eyes as she watched her friend ascend. “Come down at once! You’ll hurt yourself!”

But Elizabeth was already climbing higher, nimble as a squirrel. The boys watched with awe as she climbed branch after branch. Her skirt caught once on a twig, but she pushed forward, undeterred. Higher and higher she went, until she reached the very top. A triumphant smile spread across her face.

“I told you I could do it!” she crowed. She held on tight as she looked around, surveying the landscape from her newfound perch. She felt invincible, her heart pounding with exhilaration.

“Come down now, Lizzy!” Jane called up, her voice shaking with worry. The other girls echoed Jane’s plea, but Elizabeth just laughed, waving a hand at them.

“All of you are just afraid,” she teased, glancing around to take in the view. “I can see all of Meryton from up here!”

“Please, Lizzy!” The fear in Jane’s voice was persuasive.

But as Elizabeth began her descent, a sudden flurry of wings exploded from a nearby branch. A startled bird took flight, screeching as it fled the disturbance. Elizabeth gasped, losing her balance in her shock, and her hands slipped from the branch. She fell with a sharp scream, tumbling through the branches until she hit the ground with a sickening thud.

The world spun, her vision blurred with pain as she lay on her side, clutching her arm, which throbbed with an agony sharper than anything she had ever felt. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she tried to move, only for the pain to grow even more intense.

A piercing scream tore from her lips as she attempted to rise for a third time, and all the frozen children were suddenly moving at once. The boys exchanged panicked looks, and in an instant, they scattered to get help, dashing back to their homes or toward Lucas Lodge, where the adults could be found.

Jane, pale and trembling, knelt beside her sister, gently brushing back Elizabeth’s hair. “Oh, Lizzy,” she whispered, her voice breaking as she watched her sister writhe in pain, cradling her arm.

Charlotte Lucas knelt beside Elizabeth, her own face pale with worry. “Hold on, Lizzy. Thomas will fetch Papa—he’ll help you.”

Within minutes, Sir William Lucas arrived, his face etched with worry as he crouched beside Elizabeth. “Good heavens, child,” he murmured, assessing her injury with gentle concern. “We must get you home at once.”

Carefully, he lifted her into his arms. The movement caused pain to surge through Elizabeth’s arm, but she pressed her lips together, trying to be brave. Sir William carried her back to Longbourn, his strides long and urgent.

Mrs. Bennet and Mr. Bennet were alerted, and Mr. Jones was summoned once more. When her parents arrived, Elizabeth lay on a chaise in the parlor, tears streaming down her cheeks as she clutched her injured arm, every small movement sending waves of pain through her body.

Mr. Bennet’s mouth tightened as he looked down at Elizabeth, his hands trembling as he stroked her hair. “It’ll be alright, Lizzy,” he whispered, though his voice betrayed his anxiety. “We’ll have Mr. Jones tend to you, and you’ll be good as new.”

Mr. Jones was announced and entered the parlor, his face lined with concern as he looked down at Elizabeth. “Well, young Miss Bennet, it seems you’ve found yourself in a bit of trouble again.”

Elizabeth managed a weak smile, her face pale as she nodded. “It… it hurts something awful, Mr. Jones.”

Mr. Jones’ face grew serious as he inspected Elizabeth’s injured arm. He probed the area with gentle, yet practiced, care. “A nasty one, indeed. Now, I’ll give you some laudanum to ease the pain before I set the bone. Mrs. Bennet, you should leave now.”

Mrs. Bennet let out a small shriek and rushed from the room, calling for her smelling salts. Sir William put his hand on Mr. Benett’s shoulder. “I’ll stay, my friend.”

Nodding, Mr. Bennet motioned for Dr. Jones to continue. The apothecary reached into his bag and brought out the small bottle of laudanum. “This will help ease her pain, at least enough for me to work,” he told the adults in the room.

Elizabeth eyed the bottle warily, remembering her toothache from years before. Mr. Jones poured two drops into a small cup of water, stirring it before handing it to her. “Here you are, Miss Elizabeth. Drink up, and let’s wait a bit for it to take effect.”

Elizabeth drank the bitter medicine, grimacing at the taste. They waited, watching as the minutes ticked by, but although she grew a bit drowsy, the pain remained just as sharp and unrelenting.

“Mr. Jones, it still hurts,” she whispered, her voice quivering.

Mr. Jones frowned, scratching his head. He glanced at the parents, then poured two more drops, handing her another spoonful. “This should be plenty,” he murmured, watching as she took the second dose.

Sir William, who had stayed out of concern, raised an eyebrow. “Are you certain that’s wise, Mr. Jones? Why, when I had three drops last year after my accident, it knocked me out for the better part of two days— and I’m thrice her size!”

Mr. Jones shook his head, glancing at Elizabeth with curiosity. “Yes, ordinarily, I would think so. But Miss Elizabeth… well, she seems rather resilient to the effects of laudanum. This happened the last time she had laudanum for a rotting tooth, but I had assumed she would have outgrown it by now. Quite unusual, I must say.”

The room fell silent as they waited. Elizabeth’s eyelids drooped, and she appeared woozy, but the pain was still evident in her face. She whimpered, clutching her arm, the broken bone sending sharp stabs of agony through her every time she moved. “Papa… I think the room is spinning!” she whispered with a small laugh, her head lolling to the side.

Mr. Jones took a deep breath, casting a sympathetic glance at Elizabeth’s father. “Very well, let’s proceed. I’ll need to set the bone quickly. Elizabeth, this will hurt, but only for a moment.”

Elizabeth, still in her hazy state, only nodded, her gaze unfocused. As Mr. Jones took hold of her arm and began to pull, a fresh wave of pain coursed through her, piercing the haze of laudanum. She let out a strangled cry, twisting and writhing as the agony surged anew.

Mr. Bennet grabbed a wooden brush from the table nearby and pressed it into her mouth. “Bite down, Lizzy,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I know it hurts, but be brave, my darling.”

Elizabeth clamped her teeth onto the brush, biting down with all her might as tears streamed down her cheeks. Mr. Bennet held her, his own eyes glistening as he murmured soothing words, though his heart ached with every sob that escaped her.

“Hold her steady,” Mr. Jones instructed, and Mr. Bennet’s muscles tensed as Mr. Jones took hold of her broken limb.

As Mr. Jones pulled at her wrist, Elizabeth’s entire body went rigid. She let out a muffled scream, biting down so hard on the brush that the wood began to splinter. Tears streamed down her face, and her skin was pale and clammy, the agony overwhelming her senses.

Mr. Bennet’s own cheeks grew wet as he held his daughter, his heart breaking at her pain. “It’s all right, Lizzy,” he whispered, his voice choked. “I’m right here. Just hold on a little longer.”

Elizabeth’s breathing grew rapid, and for a moment, it seemed as if she might be sick from the pain. Mr. Jones worked swiftly to set the bone and with a final, sharp snap, the arm was set in place.

“It’s done,” Mr. Jones said, wiping the sweat from his brow.

Elizabeth lay back, her body limp with exhaustion, her face pale and damp with sweat. She looked up at Mr. Bennet, her eyes heavy with pain but filled with relief.

“It’s done, Papa,” she echoed, her voice barely more than a breath.

“Yes, my brave girl,” Mr. Bennet murmured, wiping a tear from his own cheek as he stroked her hair. “It’s finished, and you were so very strong.”

Elizabeth collapsed against her father, her face ashen and her breathing ragged. Mr. Jones dabbed her forehead with a damp cloth, glancing down at her with a look of concern. “Given her unusual tolerance, I’ll administer two more drops to help her rest,” he said, though his voice held a note of reluctance.

He administered the final dose, watching carefully as Elizabeth’s breathing slowed and her eyelids began to droop. The agony in her expression softened, and her body finally relaxed, though she didn’t fall fully asleep. Instead, she drifted in and out of a light doze, murmuring as the laudanum took hold.

As he packed up his bag, Mr. Jones shook his head, glancing over at Mr. Bennet. “Your daughter is quite remarkable, sir,” he said. “I’ve never seen such a tolerance for laudanum in someone so young. Quite unusual, indeed.”

Mr. Bennet managed a faint smile, still holding Elizabeth’s hand as she drifted in her half-conscious state. “Yes, she’s a remarkable child,” he replied, his voice filled with pride and love. “Stubborn as anything and brave to the bone.”

Elizabeth murmured something in her sleep, and Mr. Bennet leaned down to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. For tonight, she was safe, and that was all that mattered.