“I will rescue you if her attentiveness becomes unbearable. I will always rescue you, sweetling. Never fear.” He patted her knee and picked up his book to continue reading. But his mind could not focus on the printed words as his thoughts rambled back to the young woman he had just seen. A slow warmth began to spread in his chest as he saw her again in his mind’s eye.
“Why do you smile so, Brother?” Georgiana teased setting down her sewing.
He shook his head.You are promised to another. There is only one woman you need to think of from now on.He shrugged.
“Oh nothing, darling. I am only thinking…”
“Of Anne?”
“Yes,” he replied smiling. “How pleased I am knowing how content we will all be when she is well enough to set a wedding date.”
His smile faltered and he returned his gaze out the window, wondering about the young woman.There was something rather pleasing about her features…
The carriage passedin the direction of Meryton allowing Elizabeth Bennet’s smile to linger a bit longer at the memory of the handsome gentleman who had only moments before disappeared around the bend. The imposing chaise and four surely was heading to Netherfield Park which, according to her mother, had been let at last. Mrs. Bennet seemed to think it would somehow affect her daughters, though Lizzy could not see how. Their new neighbor, a Mr. Charles Bingley, had been in residence for a little over a fortnight and no one, save Sir William Lucas, had made his acquaintance.
“But, I guess that is the problem with being a man,” she joked to no one in particular as she continued to walk on her way home. “You have too much business and no time for frivolity.”
Truth be told, Lizzy was not out on a frivolous walk. She had been visiting a few of her father’s tenants with Cook’s weekly basket of sweets. They had been lovely visits: the Millers were expecting their third baby next month, and as ungainly as she was, Mrs. Miller was very hospitable; the Watsons were grateful for the cakes as it was little Sarah’s birthday the next day; and the Reeds were happy for the book of poems offered to young Billy as he was preparing to leave for the continent. She adored their tenants and was grateful her father had always encouraged the girls to visit them regularly since their mother did not.
Lizzy sighed as she neared Longbourn, her family’s estate. She loved her home, even with its once stately façade now somewhat faded by the sunlight. The footprints of generations of her father’s ancestors could be seen throughout the grounds and buildings—the park, a small nod to the great estates of years past with its asters, sage, and daisies; the barn, expanded a half century ago to increase the livestock output; the watermill along the stream to help the Longbourn mill produce flour for its tenants and local markets. She shook her head at the disuse. Her father had no disposition to increase the holdings of his estate.
I do not understand why he is so hesitant to consider the estate as a business instead of solely as our home. As a woman, my training is limited, but even I see the benefit of using the land for our advantage.The commotion of her home suddenly brought her back to reality. Even from this distance, she could hear her mother and the din spilling from the house as preparations were being made for tomorrow’s festivities.
“Jane… Jane!” wailed Mrs. Bennet. “Bring your dresses to me so that I may pick which one for you to wear. We must take advantage of every opportunity.”
Upon walking into the house, Lizzy could not avoid the uproar. Her younger sister Mary was plunking away at the piano. The youngest, Kitty and Lydia, were arguing over ribbons. At seventeen and not quite sixteen respectively, Lizzy often wondered if they were too young to come out into society but could not begrudge their pleasure due to her lack of the marriage state. She walked down the hall and knocked gently at the door of her father’s study.
“Enter.” He smiled as she crossed the room and kissed him affectionately on the cheek. “Good morning, Lizzy. How are our tenants?”
Lizzy inhaled the scent of leather and tobacco which permeated the air. Even in fifty years, she knew when she smelled the two scents together, she would feel her father’s presence. Light filtered in through the dark window tapestries and a low fire was smoking in the hearth. He motioned toward “her chair” and she sat down, raised her feet under her, and crossed her ankles.
“All is well, Father. Mrs. Miller’s time is near. I must finish the christening gown I am making her. Hopefully they will be pleased even though I am not as proficient with a needle as Mary.”
“My dear girl, your efforts are always appreciated by everyone who knows you.”
Their conversation was interrupted by a screeching Mrs. Bennet. “Lizzy? Lizzy? Where is that girl? Hill!”
The obedient servant could be heard rushing down the hallway into the room. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Has Lizzy returned? I must approve her gown for tomorrow evening. I do not know who will look at her with Jane at her side, but all the same, she must be presentable.”
Her voice faded down the hallway, barking both orders at her housekeeper and more complaints about her second, oldest child.
“Ignore her, my dear girl. Your mother’s in a mood which will not be squelched until her moment’s greatest desire has been fulfilled.” Mr. Bennet readjusted his glasses and smiled mischievously.
“Which is…?” Lizzy asked picking up her favorite copy of Wordsworth which her father left on the end table for whenever she joined him.
“To be introduced to the new master of Netherfield.” His eyes danced as he slowly let the sentence roll from his mouth.
“Well, Father, can you blame her? A man with ‘five thousand a year’ is not a man to be trifled with. Not often does an opportunity such as this come to the neighborhood—nay, to a house with five unmarried daughters!” They both chuckled while Lizzy repeated her mother’s words for the hundredth time that week. “And you, sir! Refusing to visit Mr. Bingley, therefore denying your daughters the opportunity to dance with him on the morrow? By that lone decision, casting us into the hedgerows upon your death? It is not to be endured!”
Mr. Bennet chortled again as Lizzy’s laughter filled the room. “Yes, my dear girl. You are an observer of the folly of characters, like your old papa.” He raised his eyebrows and leaned toward her. “We are blessed then to have incomparable examples daily in our realm.”
As if on cue, frantic cries rang down the stairs. “Kitty, give that back to Lydia at once.”
“But, Mama, it is mine. My aunt Gardiner gave it to me for my birthday last year.”
“Well, it looks much better on your sister than you. You heard me, girl. Off with it!”
