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My sisters, of course, had their own troubles, what with the Netherfield party’s abandonment and Lydia’s shame; so they in turn were afraid to burden me and replied with letters that could put Mr Collins to sleep.

From that beginning, we somehow established boredom and tedium as our mode of communication, to the point where my own sisters had less connection with me than an indifferent acquaintance.

At that point, Mr Darcy, of all people, knew more of my business than all my sisters, my aunts and uncles, and my parents combined. I was still confused as to why he was interested in such an office, and why I allowed it. However, for the moment, I was prepared to go along with the scheme to see where it went.

I belatedly realised I could have corrected the connection with my sisters at any time if I had simply trusted in them, but I had no idea how to begin. I could have sent a letter privately through Charlotte, or I could have asked for help or assistance from Aunt and Uncle Gardiner, but my need to avoid spreading my problems to others prevented any such action. I certainly would have never thought to discuss it with anybody but Jane, but from the looks of things, Lydia would have been a better bet, if I could have made myself do it, or even imagined the possibility. I saw the relative deportment in the ways the two looked at Mr Darcy. Lydia stared him down as if daring him to tempt her wrath. Jane just looked at him in perplexity, which, come to think of it, is what I did most of the time.

I thought that by the end of the first half-year, surely my sisters would hate me for my neglect, as I occasionally felt that I hated myself. I could not even do the most basic duty as a wife, and my sisters must have thought I abandoned them to their own fate without a second thought. Their own fate obviously included some real attempts at schooling, and so perhaps, once Bennet discarded the most troublesome of his daughters, he decided better late than never, and tried to rescue the rest. If so, I would have to give him a tiny bit of credit, I supposed.

Of course, it only took about two seconds for all my thoughts and worries and concerns to fly out the window, and we were sisters again, laughing and crying and hugging and together. I vowed at that moment they would never return to Longbourn while their father lived, though I was no longer so certain I would emulate my mother by getting them married off. Lydia and Kitty were still much too young for marriage, and we might have a few choices in life. Perhaps Mr Darcy might offer some advice or even assistance, since he seemed stuck to the parsonage like a barnacle. He was a well-educated man, with apparently no other pressing duties. I even wondered if it would be worthwhile to reacquaint Jane with Mr Bingley. It seemed easy enough to arrange, but I had no idea how she felt about him, and my opinion of him was only marginally better than that of his sisters.

I was astonished by the look and deportment of my sisters. The change was obvious at a glance when they came around the corner of the parsonage. They were possibly the primmest and most proper young ladies I had ever had the pleasure—or was it displeasure?—of seeing. Certainly, in a public place, they were nothing like the Bennet ladies of my memory, and I was not entirely convinced I approved the change, despite how much I had ranted and raved about their behaviour previously. Obviously, Lydia’s shame was beyond the pale, but did we have to destroy every bit of liveliness in the process? In the end, it did not matter, though. They were my sisters, and any injuries would be forgiven for at least the next hour, until we could begin the serious business of creating new ones.

The next surprising thing was not really a surprise, as much as a revelation. I was only mildly intrigued to learn that Mr Darcy had gone raving mad, and perhaps he stayed in Kent instead of Derbyshire due to its convenient proximity to his next home in Bedlam. The man who so openly sneered at my sisters in Hertfordshire greeted them much as I imagine he must greet the ladies of the first circles, or perhaps even better. He almost treated them as people who were genuinely important to him; but of course, that was ridiculous. That was all supposition, and in my less charitable moments, I thought most of the ladies of the first circles must be like Caroline Bingley. Perhaps instead of going mad, he finally came to his senses. It was most peculiar, but after the last week—well, in truth, it was only the sixth day since his arrival—I could see that he and I had some kind of odd connection, though I could not in the least define it.

When I saw his cordiality to my sisters, I also had another idea that perhaps he was not quite as mad as it sounded. He seemed to like my sisters when away from their parents. I had just nearly flayed him alive about his lack of diligence in marrying and producing an heir. The very next day, the four loveliest ladies in England fell out of the sky, practically on his lap. He mentioned a plan, so perhaps the man had settled on Jane. Of course, Lydia and Kitty were much too young for him, but Mary was of an age as well. So now, he was clearly in want of a wife; at least two beautiful young women appeared as if by magic; their manners were now refined, and I could only imagine they had some accomplishments. Yes, Mr Darcy may well be eyeing my sisters with an eye towards courtship. Life is so much better when it makes sense, and that hypothesis explained his behaviour admirably. I wondered which sister he favoured.

Those thoughts and his peculiar behaviour were pleasurable enough to put an actual smile on my face, and I am certain he noticed and made me pay for it. In the end, I still did not understand him, but thought that some day I might; or at least whichever sister he chose could explain him to me.

All these thoughts were tumbling around and around as Mr Darcy greeted my sisters with a mixture of cordiality and familiarity, both of which actually amused me. There you have it. I admit it. I, for the first time in a year, was amused, and the source of my amusement was Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy. Perhaps he did have some uses aside from being very tall and utterly brutal in his ability to make me face my own character and to face his own.

I eventually decided that if I were to have the slightest hope of serving a meal on the morrow for nine people without poisoning anybody, I had better get to it. When I invited Lady Catherine on impulse the previous evening, I most assuredly did not plan for such a calamity, but after so much time being downcast, I decided I would let my courage rise to the occasion. We still had much to do, so I nodded my sisters back toward the parsonage so we could make a start.

As we walked, I watched my sisters in curiosity, and there were certainly a lot of changes. Lydia was still Lydia somewhere underneath the manners that appeared to have been painted on with a hammer, but she seemed to possess a quiet strength, unless of course, I was reading entirely too much into a few words and glances. I thought that the hackneyed notion of adversity making us stronger might have some grain of truth, but the poor girl came very close to matching Icarus’ fate in the process. I wondered how Mr Darcy’s sister fared. Was she strengthened by the experience or harmed? Would he allow the two girls to know of their mutual proximity to disaster? Would his sister like and accept mine?

I have no idea how it happened, as he did not offer, nor did I accept, but I found my hand attached to Mr Darcy’s arm as we were walking back to the parsonage to begin preparations for an extended stay. Rather than being as discomposed as I might have supposed, I actually found it comforting, and maybe even enjoyable. It was quite some time since I had occasion to think well of any member of the male sex, and I was astounded to find that I did not think as poorly of him as I once had. I still had not the vaguest idea why we treated each other as confidants, but was content for the moment with the uncertainty and ambiguity of our relationship. He certainly showed himself to be made of sterner stuff than I originally believed. With that in mind, I thought that, as he was still present, I might as well talk to him. With my sisters all returned to me, it was probably about time for me to engage in a tiny little bit of impertinence, just to show them some part of their former sister survived.

Still holding his arm, I looked up directly at him. “Mr Darcy, I wonder if all the men in your family are insane, or if it is really just you?”

He gave me a small grin, the same as he gave while talking with my sisters earlier. “I cannot vouch for all the men in my family, Elizabeth, so I imagine I will simply have to introduce them to you one at a time and take your opinion.”

That sounded… well, to tell the truth, I had no idea how it sounded. “It seems an unlikely prospect, so perhaps over the next year, you might make a survey and report the results.”

He was not one to be dissuaded. “There are not all that many men in my family, so the task may not be as daunting as you suppose. In fact, you will make a good start tomorrow when I bring my cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, to supper.”

I was so surprised by the statement I stopped abruptly, but he started me moving again by simply clamping my hand against his side, while I either fumed or laughed or considered scratching his eyes out.

“Do not be alarmed; he is, after all, a second son, so he is of little importance, and his father, the Earl of Matlock, will hardly notice his absence… unless of course, the earl joins us. Perhaps I should have invited him as well?”

I fumed in silence for a moment, before working out that the latter part was almost certainly in jest.

At last, I said, “Will you be inviting any other relatives to my supper, sir?”

He just grinned and shook his head.

I decided he was deriving entirely too much amusement from my discomfiture for his own good, and I thought to put him in his place, but had not the slightest idea how to go about it. He seemed either more resilient or more stubborn than I supposed.

My sisters were looking at me in a mixture of confusion and amusement, and it was difficult to see which emotion would rule, so I simply decided to let it lie. Once you have ten people to table in a dining room the size of a closet, what is one or two more? I should hardly notice.

When we entered the parsonage, I took everyone to the parlour and started discussing what needed to be done.

“Sisters, while you are here, and I believe it will be for some time, I would not like any of you going out alone until you are familiar with the area, and perhaps not even then. I have no reason to think there is any danger, but I am responsible for you now. Will you agree?”

They all nodded, so I moved on to practical matters. “I have had the upstairs closed off for some time, so all the rooms need cleaning and airing. I do not keep any servants, so we need to earn our keep. Is that agreeable?”

They were surprised, so I set out to calm them before any undue alarm set in. “We are not destitute. I have simply chosen not to keep servants for such a simple household. I have my reasons, but you need fear nothing except a bit of work, and it will not kill you to learn to cook and clean. As you see, I survived it.”

They all nodded acceptance, with Lydia actually smiling as if I had announced I kept a room full of ribbons in the back. I suspected I had a lot to learn about my sisters.