Chapter 1
Longbourn
September, 1811
“Very well, Mr. Gregory,” Elizabeth Bennet agreed. “I think it is appropriate to replace the fencing since it has been more than ten years since the last repair, but please tell Mr. Gillingham that this is the last time. He must do his own share in maintaining the boundary between Longbourn and his estate.”
“I will, Miss Elizabeth. Are you finished with the ledger?”
“No, but I should be soon. I will put it in the appropriate drawer when I am done.”
“Very well,” the steward replied, rising to his feet and hovering awkwardly.
Elizabeth looked up at the man, forcing her face to relax into a welcoming smile. Mr. Gregory was a young man and rather hesitant, though he was a loyal and gifted steward of the estate of Longbourn.
“Yes, Mr. Gregory?”
“Miss Elizabeth, there are some legal documents which your uncle, Mr. Philips, gave to me to be signed by Mr. Bennet. I was hoping ...”
“Leave them on the desk,” Elizabeth instructed. “I will see that they are signed.”
The man nodded gratefully and left the office, shutting the door quietly behind him.
Elizabeth bent her head over the ledger and ran her eyes over the expenditures for the stables the last few months. The head groom was, she thought, reliable enough, but it was best to do spot checks. A previous steward of Longbourn had been embezzling for many years before Elizabeth’s sharp eye had detected anomalies.
A few minutes later, with the numbers tallied properly, she placed the ledger in its appropriate drawer and rose to her feet with a slight groan. She stretched her arms and glanced outside longingly. The September day was unseasonably cool but she needed a walk. It was only 2 o’clock in the afternoon, and she should be able to get in a brisk walk outside before dinner.
There was a knock at the door and Elizabeth opened it to find her younger sister, Mary, standing there, her hand still up.
“Oh, Elizabeth,” Mary exclaimed, lowering her arm. “I apologize if I interrupted you.”
“Not at all, Mary,” Elizabeth answered, stepping over to gather the papers that Mr. Gregory had left her. “Do you need me?”
“I was hoping all five of us could talk soon,” Mary said in a lowered tone.
Elizabeth lifted her eyebrows at this and glanced down the corridor, observing that it was empty.
“Where is Mama?” she asked softly.
“Lying down for a nap.”
“Very well, I will join you in Lydia’s room in a few minutes. I need Father to sign some papers.”
Mary grimaced a little, “Good luck.”
“Thank you,” Elizabeth replied gratefully.
Elizabeth strode toward the library, her sharp eye noting that the carpet directly in front of the library door was wearing through. It would need to be replaced soon.
She knocked on the library door and was pleased to hear her father’s faint voice responding.
Inside, she was even more pleased to observe that her father was behind his desk and that his eyes were reasonably focused. Early afternoon tended to be an uncertain time – sometimes her father’s predilection for strong drink would result in near unconsciousness by this hour, but at other times he would be reasonably alert.
“Lizzy, my dear,” the man said cheerfully. “It is so good to see you on this lovely autumn day. How are you?”
“I am well, Father,” Elizabeth replied, keeping the papers in her hand. It never worked to ask her father to sign papers immediately. He required some company before completing such tasks.
“I was reading Hamlet again,” her father declared, his slightly shaking hand touching the book on the desk in front of him. “Quite a rum fellow, young Hamlet. Do you not agree?”
Elizabeth suppressed a sigh but nodded and sat down. Before her father’s slide into habitual drunkenness, she had welcomed such discussions. Now she was busy keeping the Bennet family afloat financially, and today had been a particularly tiring day. Nevertheless, for all that she was angry at her father for his weakness, she still loved him. Hamlet was not her favorite Shakespearean play, but at least she found it far more enjoyable than King Lear .
“Indeed he was,” Elizabeth agreed, settling back in her seat. “When one thinks of his weakness in some ways, his strength in others ...”
Fifteen minutes later she excused herself, having obtained her father’s signature on the necessary papers. She hurried up the stairs to Lydia’s room, which was at the back of the house and the farthest from Mrs. Bennet’s chamber where the nominal lady of the house was resting.
All of her sisters waited within; Mary and Kitty were sitting side by side on Lydia’s bed reading the novel The Vicar of Wakefield , and Lydia and Jane were sitting on the window seat, with the younger, taller girl leaning slightly into the eldest Miss Bennet.
“I apologize for the delay,” Elizabeth said, stepping in and closing the door.
“Nonsense, Lizzy,” Mary returned, lifting her head from her book. “We were hoping it would take a little while. I assume that Father was well enough to sign the papers since you were closeted with him for fifteen minutes?”
“Yes, he was,” Elizabeth declared with relief. There were times when she had to visit Mr. Bennet three or four times before finding him in the right mood to sign necessary documents.
She sat down on Lydia’s narrow bed and leaned back against the wall with a sigh. She desperately wished for a walk. Perhaps after this meeting, she would be able to sneak outside for much needed fresh air and exercise.
“We will not keep you long,” Mary said quickly, obviously catching her mood. “I merely wished to tell you of our visit to Aunt Philips’s house today. She told me that Netherfield Hall is let at last.”
Elizabeth sat up with interest, “Indeed! Do you know any details?”
“We do,” Kitty piped up. “Aunt Philips says that his name is Mr. Bingley, and he is a young gentleman with a large fortune of some four or five thousand pounds a year. He came down and toured Netherfield Hall and was so pleased that he immediately chose to take it. He will be moving in by Michaelmas.”
“Is he married or single?”
“Single, according to Aunt Philips,” Kitty announced.
“He does not have his own estate elsewhere in the kingdom?” Elizabeth queried.
“I believe he is the son of a successful man of trade and thus does not have an ancestral estate,” Kitty explained. “We wished to ask you whether we should tell Mother of this gentleman’s arrival.”
“No!” Elizabeth replied forcefully and then, seeing the distressed look on her second youngest sister’s face, continued more gently. “No. Mother will learn soon enough of Mr. Bingley’s appearance in our sphere, but Father will not visit the man and Mother will only fret about it. Best to wait for as long as possible to tell her.”
“Aunt Philips will tell her soon enough,” Mary commented grimly.
“Mother has been especially fretful of late and not inclined to go to Meryton,” Jane mused. “If the horses are busy on the farm, then the coach will not be available.”
Elizabeth smiled at her sister, though a little sadly. Jane used to be completely incapable of any kind of manipulation, but the last months had been hard on them all. The eldest Miss Bennet had learned the necessity of managing their mother, sometimes through mild subterfuge.
“The horses are quite busy on the farm,” Elizabeth assured them all. “So yes, we will wait as long as possible. For all we know, the man will not be interested in mingling with his neighbors. While he is reputedly single, he may already be attached to a young woman. There is no reason to raise hopes for Mother any sooner than necessary.”
“That is what we thought,” Mary agreed, rising to her feet, “but we wished to check with you. Come Kitty, let us retire to our room to read more of the novel together, shall we?”
Kitty nodded and departed with Mary, leaving Jane, Elizabeth, and Lydia. Elizabeth cast a longing glance toward the door but did not move, responding to the silent look of entreaty from Jane.
“Mother spoke to Lydia again this morning about going out into society,” Jane explained. “Lydia does not wish to do so, but Mother is most insistent.”
Elizabeth ran a weary hand across her face and sighed, “My poor sister, I am so sorry. I had hoped Mother had given up on that desire the last time we spoke of it.”
Lydia hunched angry shoulders, “She says that Jane is growing old, you are too high-handed to find a husband, Mary is plain, and Kitty is sickly. She actually said she thought I might marry first, as if I wish to do so! It makes me so angry, Lizzy! How can she pressure me in such a way when I still miss Matthew so very much?”
Jane reached an arm around her young sister’s body and pulled her closer still, “I know you do, Lyddy. Mama misses him too, but in a different way.”
“All she seems to care about is that her only son died and now Longbourn will be lost when Papa is dead. Matthew was my twin brother! I loved him so very much. I will miss him until the day I die and I will not go out into society and dance and smile and pretend that everything is all right! He has only been gone six months!”
“I know, my dear, I know,” Jane murmured, pressing a kiss into her sister’s glossy brown hair. “We all miss him, but of course you were the closest to him of all. I cannot pretend to know how you feel, but I too grieve deeply over the loss of our dear brother.”
This provoked sobs in young Lydia Bennet, and Jane wrapped her loving arms around the girl while tilting her head toward Elizabeth. The two eldest Miss Bennets could often speak without words, and Elizabeth knew that Jane would care for their youngest sister while Elizabeth escaped.
She did leave, creeping out of the room, down the stairs, and through the back door into Longbourn’s garden.
Elizabeth strode quickly toward a path which wound through the forest, not relaxing until she was shielded by trees from the house. She needed time alone, she must have it else she would go mad, but she was the one that the servants and tenants came to for direction, and if anyone saw her – well, she would feel obliged to stop and speak to them.
After five minutes of brisk walking along the winding path, Elizabeth felt the knot of stress in her neck unfurl. She found herself breathing more deeply, inflating her lungs with the crisp, fresh-scented air. Her eyes took in the beauty of the woods in autumn; it had thus far been a chilly September, but today the temperatures were pleasant. The autumn leaves were beginning to show splashes of yellow and orange in the midst of the summer’s greenery. Holly berries glinted, bright sparks of red in the underbrush where squirrels and birds rustled and chirped, calling to each other.
Her eyes filled with tears. She loved Longbourn. She loved its tenants, its land, its forests, its manse. She had worked hard and suffered much these last years, but she would not regret the hard work, the late nights, of keeping the estate in good health until her father passed on and the lands and house went to her distant cousin, Mr. William Collins.
She found herself praying for her father, that he would break free from the torment in his soul, that he would be freed from his love for alcohol, that he would live a long and healthy life, for all their sakes.