Chapter 2
Longbourn, Hertfordshire
Young Jane Bennet was growing into all that was lovely.
Francis Gardiner had been a beautiful young woman, but she paled in comparison to Jane.
Jane’s face was a perfect oval, her chin ending in a delicate point.
Her eyes were a bright, sparkling blue, framed with thick dark lashes.
Her skin was milky white with the slightest touch of pink over her cheeks.
Her lips were a perfect rosebud, darker than all her sisters, and when she smiled, the sun shone brighter.
Her hair was a golden halo, her neck graceful like a swan.
She was tall enough to be elegant but not tall enough to intimidate.
Her figure was beginning to form in an enviable fashion, and her nature was as sweet as her smile.
She was her parents’ greatest source of pride and the envy of her neighbors.
Francis watched Jane growing, saw her beauty, and debated how she should advise her daughter.
To mark or not? To choose for herself, or to let Fate decide?
If she chose a mark, there was no guarantee that her soulmate was not already married.
Then she would be an old maid, forever pining for a man she could not have.
But if she did not receive a mark, there was no guarantee she would be happy in marriage.
Her husband might be cruel or dull or receive his own mark when it was too late.
Francis pondered all of these questions, wondering what she should do about her girls.
After speaking to her sister at length, they came up with a rough plan.
If the girls received their mark before their thirteenth birthdays that would mean their mates had chosen to be marked and their futures were secure.
The girls could come out at sixteen or seventeen as was the norm and begin looking for their husbands.
After all, neither Francis nor Mrs. Phillips had ever heard of an early-marked girl not eventually meeting her soulmate. It simply did not work that way.
Alternatively, if the girls did not receive a mark before their birthdays, she would encourage them to get the mark, but she would accompany it with a stern warning.
There was a chance they would never find their mates, and they may end up living with their married sisters.
They must be very sure they were willing to endure that before choosing to get the mark.
And if one of her daughters chose not to be marked, Mrs. Bennet would advise her to marry a little later if she could.
Not so old she would be on the shelf, but old enough that the man she was marrying would have had plenty of time for his own mark to appear, and she would be less likely to be disappointed when it was too late to do anything about it.
Francis changed her mind about her plans more than a dozen times before Jane, shortly after her eleventh birthday, awoke with a tiny blue mark on her upper back, just below her neck.
Francis could not be sure, so she checked it each day for a week until one day, Jane complained that her neck had been itching horribly, and Francis told her she was likely coming into a soul mark.
Jane’s younger sisters rushed to see, and then held mirrors for Jane to observe it herself.
It took six months for the mark to be complete, but eventually, the image of a grand house emerged.
On the front door of the house, in tiny letters, were the initials CHB.
“We are saved!” cried Mrs. Bennet when the mark was complete. Everyone knew that marks bore some connection to the wearers, and the sight of a grand house had Mrs. Bennet sure Jane’s future husband was a wealthy man.
They knew Jane’s soul mate was only two years older than her, so Mr. and Mrs. Bennet decided it would be best to wait for Jane to come out until she was eighteen, though Mrs. Bennet argued for seventeen.
Mr. Bennet stated that if the young man was a property owner, he would likely go to university, and if Jane went husband hunting too early, she would miss him for he would be in Oxford or Cambridge, and Jane would be left disheartened and disappointed.
Mrs. Bennet reluctantly agreed and began watching her other daughters like a hawk. With any luck, they would all be marked early and her prayers would be answered.
To everyone’s surprise, the next Bennet daughter to show a mark was seven-year-old Kitty.
She was sitting on a blanket on the south lawn of Longbourn, playing happily with a doll while Jane and Elizabeth attempted croquet nearby, when five-year old Lydia pointed to her sister’s leg and said, “Horsey!”
Sure enough, on Kitty’s left leg, just above her stocking, was the faint outline of a horse.
The image was incomplete, but it was clear it had been growing for some time.
An angry Mrs. Bennet asked the nurse why she had not been told about her daughter’s mark, and the young woman had shrugged and said she thought Mrs. Bennet knew.
While the adults were arguing, the sisters gathered together and looked at Kitty’s mark, their curiosity piqued.
“Perhaps your husband will be a soldier in the cavalry,” said Jane.
“Or he could have a very large stable,” added Elizabeth.
Kitty frowned at the mark on her leg, not sure whether or not she liked it.
That night, Elizabeth stole into Jane’s bed and snuggled beside her sister.
“Janie,” she whispered, “do you think I will ever get a mark?”
“Of course you will! You are but ten years old. Perhaps your husband is younger than you. Mrs. Long is six months older than her husband, and they are very happy together. And there is still time before your thirteenth birthday.”
Elizabeth sighed and stared at the ceiling. “I suppose. Though…Kitty is three years younger than me and she has a mark.”
Jane squeezed her hand. “Do not fret, Lizzy. Fate does not make mistakes.”
Elizabeth nodded, feeling better already. “You are right. I will trust Fate.”
The ensuing years saw Elizabeth becoming more romantic instead of less.
Kitty’s mark had come in beautifully, and the detail of the horse’s mane and eyes showed great artistry.
She was the envy of several of the younger girls whose marks had not yet come in, and of those who had, Kitty’s was by far the most intricate.
Mrs. Bennet insisted on horse riding lessons for Kitty, as she would clearly need them, and the regular instruction in combination with the admiration of her neighbors made Kitty more confident than she otherwise would have been, a fact that made Fate smile smugly.
Why all these silly humans thought they knew better than anyone else, she did not know, but Fate spent an inordinate amount of time cleaning up their messes.
As Elizabeth’s thirteenth birthday approached, she still had no mark.
Her little sister—a full three years younger than she!
—had a mark, but Elizabeth’s body remained woefully bare.
Every morning she would look herself over in the mirror, searching for even the smallest change, but nothing was ever there.
In an odd moment of motherly affection—for Elizabeth often felt that her mother was not particularly fond of her—Mrs. Bennet sat Elizabeth down for a serious talk.
“Elizabeth, have you thought about whether or not you will take a mark next month?”
“I have thought about it, but I have not decided,” she answered hesitantly.
Mrs. Bennet nodded. “You are a vivacious girl, Lizzy. Strong. Lively. I do not think you would be happy with a man who did not love you completely. Mary could, and even Jane, I think, but not you.” She took Elizabeth’s chin in her hand and looked her in the eye.
“I advise you to get the mark, Elizabeth. For a girl like you, no husband is better than one who does not truly want you.”
Elizabeth could only stare at her mother, not comprehending everything that was being said or why her mother was telling her such things, but she understood that her mother was being very serious, and that a mark would likely mean a happy marriage or life as an old maid.
Either choice was better than an unhappy union.
As she lay in bed that night, Elizabeth made her decision.
She would get the mark. She would rather have a great love or no love at all.
Her mother was right. She could never live with someone who merely tolerated her.
There was risk inherent with getting a mark, but she was willing to take it.
It would be better than the alternative.
As her thirteenth birthday loomed closer, Elizabeth was again sat down by one of her parents, but this time it was her father.
“Do you plan to take a mark, Elizabeth?” he asked, his features carefully neutral.
“I do, sir.”
Mr. Bennet swallowed and looked around the room, searching for answers in corners that remained silent.
“I advise you to be careful, my dear.”
“What do you mean?” asked Elizabeth.
“You will be thirteen in less than a month. Most men are older than their wives. If your intended husband wished for a mark, he would have gotten it already, and yours would have shown up accordingly.”
Elizabeth bit her lip and looked at the carpet, blinking to dispel the sting in her eyes.
“I do not wish to hurt you, Lizzy,” her father continued gently. “I merely wish to prepare you. It is possible the man you are matched with is already married and will therefore not be able to wed you. You may not ever meet. Or he may have chosen not to get the mark for other reasons.”