“Would you teach me how?”asked Jane, her expression pathetically hopeful.
Mrs.Gardiner patter her niece’s hand.“Of course I shall, my dear.But first, let us deal with this hair.”
Mrs.Gardiner was generous with her advice and soon enough, Jane was enjoying herself and had become adept at deflecting unwanted attention.Elizabeth had no such difficulties.She did not have Jane’s beauty or more mature figure to draw suitors to her, but her eyes were bright and her smile genuine, and she was prepared to please and be pleased.She always had a dance partner and lively conversation at dinner, and so far, she had only wished to avoid one gentleman’s attention, and he was easily dispatched.
As they had expected, none of the men present at any of the gatherings they attended sported a matching mark.It was rare to meet one’s match as soon as one began looking for them.Mrs.Gardiner assured them their matches would come along at the right time and that in the meantime, they should simply enjoy themselves and not think about it overmuch.It was advice they were happy to take.
The girls had been told that most marked ladies find they have no interest in men who are not their soulmate.They might think a gentleman charming or attractive, but her heart would remain untouched.To their combined surprise, the girls’ lack of romantic interest led to a wonderful Season.
Gentlemen knew the Bennets had no marital designs on them, and the ladies knew the men would not be drawn to any lady but their fated mates.Most of their uncle’s friends were marked—lower gentry and successful businessmen like himself—and it was easily determined whether or not their marks matched.It was a refreshingly honest way to make friends.
Both Jane and Elizabeth were happy to return home with promises to correspond with half a dozen ladies and the sincere friendship of twice as many gentlemen.
Chapter 4
Longbourn, Spring 1809
WhileJaneandElizabethwere enjoying a Season in London, Lydia was contemplating her own future.She would be thirteen that coming summer and she must decide if she wished for a mark.Kitty and Jane’s marks had come in before their birthdays, and Elizabeth had had a ceremony followed by the most elaborate mark anyone had ever seen.Mary had chosen not to get marked, though she refused to explain her reasons to anyone, vexing girl.
Now Lydia must choose for herself.She did not wish to be the only Bennet sister without a mark along with Mary.She was nothing like Mary.Her solemn elder sister had no desire to marry, or not one that she would admit to, anyway, and Lydia did wish for a husband.Preferably a dashing one in a red coat.She thought she should get the mark so there would be no confusion over whom she should wed, and she had heard that marked women were happier in their marriages and she intended to be very jolly indeed.
But she was more than a little hurt that she was not already marked.Whoever he was, he clearly did not wish for the assurance she did.He was content to go about the world, doing whatever it was he did all day, not knowing a thing about his soul mate.His own soul mate!It was insulting, and a part of her did not wish to get marked at all.That would show him to ignore Lydia Bennet!Let him marry some ugly little bore of a girl while she danced at all the parties and never lacked a partner.
Except…most of the gentlemen she knew were marked.So were the wealthy tenants, and the handful of officers she had met in her life.If they were marked, would they be interested in her at all?Would they even dance with her?
It was a difficult decision to make, likely the most important choice of her entire life.What was she to do?
In the end, it was Maria Lucas who decided it.Maria’s birthday was in April while Lydia’s was in August.Maria chose to receive a mark in her ceremony, and by the end of July, she had three beautiful butterflies flying over her left arm.They were small and delicate and brightly colored.
Lydia was terribly jealous.
When her thirteenth birthday came about and she stood before the vicar and was asked if she would like to receive a mark, her answer was a resounding, “Yes!”
Her voice echoed off the stone and more than one person had to hide their snicker, but she could not stop smiling.Her mark would be just as nice as Maria’s.She knew it.
Derbyshire, Spring 1809
Georgiana Darcy was the only daughter of a wealthy landowner and a titled mother.She did not rebel.She did not do anything less than what was expected of her.She did not go against the grain or fight the powers that be.She accepted.She acquiesced.She was a lady through and through.
And she was thoroughly miserable.
Her thirteenth birthday had just come and gone and like the weak little child she was, she had allowed her family’s opinions on soul marks to sway her decision.She had wished for a mark.A person designed to suit her perfectly sounded magical to her.Why would anyone not want such a thing?
But the Fitzwilliam family did not receive marks.Not anymore.No one had received a mark on their thirteenth birthday since 1755, and she could not be the first to break the new tradition.The Darcy family was more divided, but the Darcys of Pemberley—the Darcys that mattered—did not receive marks.Her father had not been marked.His father before him had not been marked.Her brother had not wished to be marked, but when he was twenty, a mark had appeared on his right arm and shoulder.It had not been his choice and he had been livid.He complained about it bitterly, cursing the mark and the person who had forced it on him.
He did not always know Georgiana could hear him, of course.He likely would have modulated his tone if he had known she was nearby, but she had heard him just the same.He was horrified at receiving a mark and she pitied the woman who put it there.Georgiana was certain her brother would be a terrible beast the day he met her.
She did not wish a man to feel that way about her.She did not wish for someone to curse her name and her very existence.And yet, she could not help but think it was a surer way to happiness than any other she had seen.She knew many couples in the Ton—her aunt and uncle Davies, Lord and Lady Matlock, her cousin Jeffrey Fitzwilliam and his wife Minerva.None of them were happy.Not with each other, anyhow.
Her aunt Davies—her father’s younger sister—was happy when she was shopping and she doted on her three children, but she did not seem to care one way or the other about her husband.Lady Matlock found joy as a hostess as she had a mind for politics, but she and Lord Matlock had no great passion between them.They were friends, or at least they appeared to be, but they had separate chambers in their homes, and they spent months at a time apart—and had for as long as Georgiana could remember.
Her cousin Jeffrey had only been married a short while.He was perfectly polite to his wife, but poor Minerva nearly jumped each time he spoke to her.Georgiana did not know what to make of it, nor her cousin’s slightly exasperated looks and frustrated sighs, but she knew these were not the signs of a happy union.
She wished better for herself.
She wanted something more.More than politeness.More than friendship.Something more complete.She did not wish her husband to feel exasperated with her as her cousin did with his wife.Nor did she wish to be like her aunts and not even notice when her husband was in another county.
But she could not go against her entire family.No one had even asked her if she wished to receive a mark, so against marking were they.Her brother was pitied for his mark.The family would look at it and shake their heads, tutting under their breath.
