Chapter 1

23 October 1810

"J ane is dead!" As Elizabeth sat atop Oakham Mount in her mourning clothes, she repeated those three words aloud, over, and over, and over again. No matter how much she wished it were not true, it was! All of her wailing at the wind, which echoed across the lifeless fields below, every prayer in the world, the constant wishing could not change that fact. Jane was no longer alive.

The worst day of her life had been the eighteenth day of October when she had watched her beloved sister breathe her last. This day, the day of the interment, was another terrible day. It gave everything a sense of finality. Escape from the house was her only option. Even though her favourite aunt, Madeline Gardiner, was making sure the house ran smoothly and was there to speak to her whenever she needed, she could not bear to suffer her mother's lamentations for another second. Knowing Charlotte Lucas would be at the manor house, did not change the fact Elizabeth could not remain and perform for all of their neighbours who would call while the men attended the funeral service and interment prayers.

Hence Elizabeth had practically run all the way to her place of solitude. Her flight had brought her here, to Oakham Mount. Elizabeth sat on her boulder, the one where in better times she would sit to welcome the new day's sun. It was as if nature knew her angel of a sister was being laid to rest this day. Everything was just as she felt, bleak. The day was overcast with dark clouds—she cared not if it rained. Mayhap she would be taken to join her Janey in heaven. The oak tree she used to climb as a child stood stark and bare against the skyline, and the fields which in the spring and summer teemed with life now lay empty, just like her heart.

Dressed in a dyed black gown, tears streaming down her cheeks, Elizabeth refused to turn and watch her Janey's body being lowered into the ground for her eternal sleep next to generations of Bennets who had come before her. The wind was not strong so she was able to hear the indistinct sounds of Mr Pierce's sonorous voice as he conducted the graveside service.

Her older sister had been her north star, her best friend, closest confidante, and peacemaker. People thought Janey had no spine, but they were wrong. As much as she liked keeping the peace, if one pushed her too hard or hurt one she loved, then one would see Jane's steely resolve. In addition to being her sister, Jane had been the one to blunt Elizabeth's sardonic wit when she thought it was needed.

If Elizabeth had a smile left in her, she would have done so at the thought of the firm way Jane would correct her course if she thought Elizabeth's wit was too caustic—like their father's.

It was Jane who had counselled her that Mr Darcy's slight at the assembly was not aimed at her but his way—admittedly not a good one—to have Mr Bingley cease importuning him to dance, when he had clearly not desired to do so. Janey had opined the tall, devastatingly handsome man had said the first thing he thought of to cause his friend to desist. It was Janey who had pointed out the fallacy in the thought Mr Darcy only looked at Elizabeth to find fault.

As much as she liked peace and to see the good in people, Jane had not been fooled by Miss Bingley's false friendship. She had seen it for what it was, but due to her desire to get to know Mr Bingley better, Jane had ignored the more supercilious aspects of the youngest Bingley's character. Janey had agreed Mrs Hurst was to Miss Bingley as Kitty was to Lydia; the younger sister led and the older followed.

Mr Bingley had called her an angel, and now Janey truly was one. That thought was the only thing which held her back from total despair. She had no doubt that Janey was at His side with her angel's wings in place, already making sure there were no disagreements in heaven.

She was torn. She could hear Jane's voice in her head telling her it was her time and God had called her home. The problem was Elizabeth knew better. She knew exactly who was to blame.

The question was, what, if anything, was she to do about it?

~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~

Longbourn, Hertfordshire August 1810

"Mr Bennet! Mr Bennet!" Frances Bennet, called Fanny by all, the excitable matriarch exclaimed as she entered her husband, Thomas Bennet's, study without knocking or an invitation to do so.

Bennet removed his spectacles and pinched the bridge of his nose. He could either sport with his wife or allow her to say what she will and then be left in peace as expediently as possible. He chose the latter option as it was by far the easiest of the two. He placed the book he had been reading on his desk, pages down and open to maintain his place. "Yes, Mrs Bennet, how may I be of assistance?"

"Such news for Jane! Netherfield Park has been let at long last," Fanny gushed.

"And what pray tell has that to do with Jane?" Bennet asked. There was no doubt his question was superfluous as his wife would tell him whether he desired to know or not.

Thanks to bearing him five daughters and no son and heir, Bennet was well aware of his wife's fear for her own security, and the future of all of their daughters, if he passed away before the girls were well disposed in marriage. There was an entail on Longbourn in favour of the male line. Once there was still no son born to his wife—after Lydia's birth in 1795 he had stopped visiting his wife's chambers—Bennet had not exerted himself to save for his daughters' futures.

"The man is from the north, and according to Hattie (Fanny's older sister, married to Frank Phillips, who loved to gossip as much as Fanny did) he is single and very wealthy. He will take residence just before Michaelmas. You must call on him so he can be introduced to Jane, see her beauty, and like you did with me, marry her," Fanny insisted.

Bennet fought to maintain his equanimity. Almost four and twenty years past he had been overset by his infatuation with the then sixteen year old Miss Frances Gardiner, the youngest of three children of Meryton's solicitor. He had not listened to his late mother, Mrs Elizabeth Rose Bennet—for whom his second Lizzy, born in 1790, had been named—who had warned him that he and Miss Gardiner were supremely incompatible. He was studious and valued the written word above all else, while Miss Gardiner was flighty, of mean understanding, and an inveterate gossip. To his everlasting chagrin, Bennet had ignored his late mother's counsel, proposed to, and then married Fanny.

Within days of consummating his marriage when the haze created by his infatuation cleared, he had realised his mother and others had been correct about him and Fanny, but it was far too late to do anything about it. Bennet had decided in haste and now had the rest of his life to repent at leisure. Being an indolent man, he left it up to his mother to teach his wife her duties. When Fanny had not wanted to learn, Bennet had not stepped in to order her to do so. Jane had arrived in 1788, then after Lizzy, Mary was born, followed by Catherine, called Kitty by all, and then Lydia.

"Mr Bennet, how you like to vex me. Surely you know a single man of wealth must be in want of a wife? He will see Jane and her beauty will do the rest," Fanny stated, "she is not so beautiful for nothing."

"If you desire, you may call on the new tenant of Netherfield Park, but I will do no such thing."

"Mr Bennet! You know I may not call at a man's house, especially as I would not have been introduced to him. How can you be so heartless? Do you have no concern for my poor nerves?"

"To the contrary my dear, your nerves have been my constant companion for nigh on four and twenty years. I have great respect for them."

"If that was true, then you would call on the new tenant as soon as he arrives at Netherfield Park." Fanny flapped her lace bordered handkerchief furiously. As always, the more nervous she became, the more she waved it. "Do you not care for your daughters' happiness and future security?"

"Mrs Bennet, you have imparted your news, now please vacate my bookroom and allow me to return to my tasks," Bennet said dismissively. "And Mrs Bennet, close the door on your way out…without slamming it."

With a series of sniffs, Fanny Bennet did as her husband had ordered.

An hour later there was a knock on the study door, this time the person without waited to be invited to enter. "Come," Bennet called out.

Elizabeth entered his study. Bennet was sure she needed to escape her mother's loud complaining of his refusal to call on Netherfield Park's new tenant when he took up the reins of the estate. As she was his favourite who matched him in wit, intelligence, and her love for the written word and chess, the second eldest Bennet daughter was always welcome in his sanctuary.

"Papa, why do you do that to Mama?" Elizabeth admonished lightly after she took her regular seat before her father's desk.

"Do what, Lizzy?" Bennet grinned.

"Provoke Mama in that way. You and I both know very well you will call on whoever the new tenant is, but you told Mama you would not," Elizabeth pointed out. "You sit here behind this thick oak door," Elizabeth cocked her head at the mentioned portal, "and leave the rest of us to calm Mama's nerves. By the rest of us, of course, I mean Janey. She has better things to do than placate Mama."

Bennet had the decency to look ashamed. "You have the right of it, Lizzy," he owned. "You may inform your mother I will indeed call on the man, and introduce myself while welcoming him to the neighbourhood, once he takes up residence."

"Thank you, Papa." Elizabeth stood, walked around the desk, and kissed her father on the cheek.

She was soon back in the drawing room imparting the good news to her mother. This caused many more effusions, but rather than laments these were ones of pleasure and thankfulness.

Knowing her husband would do his duty set Fanny off to scheming about how she would bring Jane to Netherfield Park's new master's notice. In her mind, Jane was as good as married to him.

~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~

Netherfield Park, Michaelmas 1810

Charles Bingley, his younger unmarried sister, Caroline, his older sister Louisa, and Louisa's husband Harold Hurst, arrived at the leased estate in the afternoon of the penultimate day of September.

"Really Charles, this pitiful estate is nothing to Pemberley," Miss Bingley carped. "How could you bring us to this backwater? "

"Would you like to, or should I, tell Darcy his recommendation was in error?" Bingley enquired slyly. While he knew his friend would not offer for Caroline under any circumstances, he was aware how much his sister would hate to contradict his good friend.

"If dear Mr Darcy did not find the estate wanting, then I am sure it will be perfect for us," Miss Bingley changed her tune rapidly. "When will our good friend join us? And will dear Georgiana be with him?" She looked at her brother calculatingly. "Did she not look good when we saw her last?"

Knowing she would not hear it; Bingley did not bother telling his younger sister some home truths. Miss Darcy was not out, he did not see her as more than the sister of a friend, and Darcy's family would never allow her to marry the son of a tradesman, just like, even had his friend liked his sister, Darcy would never marry the daughter of a man in trade. He had long ago learnt Caroline only heard what she wanted to, and unfortunately Louisa simply agreed with their younger sister as it was the path of least resistance.

"I do not remember how she looked," Bingley replied. He ignored his sister's look of outrage as he led his sisters and brother-in-law up the stone steps to the veranda where the butler and housekeeper awaited them in front of the huge double front doors.

If Bingley had his druthers, he would have made Lulu, Louisa, his hostess, but as they both knew the tantrum Caroline would unleash if she was not able to demonstrate her abilities to Darcy, it was more peaceful this way. In inconsequential things Bingley would defer to his younger sister and give Caroline her way, but when he needed to, he would stand firm.

Once the introductions were made, even though the youngest Bingley could not understand why they needed to be introduced to servants, Mrs Nichols showed them to the family suites.

While his valet assisted him in washing and changing to remove the dust from the road, Bingley thought of his best friend, Fitzwilliam Darcy—William to family and those closest to him—and why it was he had been far more dour than was his wont. His forbidding mask was in place more often than not these days.

He would have preferred to be able to assist his friend, but knowing how intensely Darcy guarded his private affairs, Bingley would not ask him what ailed him. He only hoped Darce's cousin and co-guardian of Miss Darcy, Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam, was able to assist his friend and restore his equanimity.

~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~

Not for the first time that day, Darcy was questioning the wisdom of keeping his word to assist Bingley in his first foray into the world of the landed gentry. His sister Giana's other guardian, who was more brother than cousin, had told him the separation would do them both good.

The advice had been seconded by Richard's parents, Lord Reginald and Lady Elaine Fitzwilliam, the Earl and Countess of Matlock, and his older brother and his wife, Lord Andrew and Lady Marie, the Viscount and Viscountess of Hilldale. Agreement was given by the new companion, Mrs Annesley, who was the one employed to replace the sacked and disgraced Mrs Younge, who along with that blackhearted wastrel George Wickham, had almost led his baby sister to her ruin.

By the Grace of God, he had arrived in Ramsgate three days early thanks to his business with Mr Gardiner concluding days sooner than had been expected. Giana had told him all as she could not lie to him. He was not only her brother, but a father figure as well.

Wickham had attempted to extort money for his silence, but Darcy had offered another alternative—his silence in exchange for not setting Richard Fitzwilliam after the libertine. The miscreant had valued his life above money, and after saying, in her hearing, all he was after was Darcy's sister's dowry, he left the house as fast as his legs could carry him. His former paramour and confederate was silenced with the threat of arrest.

Giana was across Grosvenor Square's green from Darcy House at Matlock House under the care of Aunt Elaine and her new companion. It would be a long journey back for his sister; her spirit had been broken by the absolute betrayal. Even though she excelled at playing the pianoforte, and it was her favourite pastime, she had hardly touched the ivories. The one time he had heard her play, it had been the most sombre of music.

Regardless of what Darcy had promised Wickham for his silence, Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam of His Majesty's Royal Dragoons, had come within minutes of pursuing Wicky—as he called him—and ending the man's wasted life for the damage done to his ward. It was Giana's pleas she did not want him to hang which had stayed his hand.

It had been very close, but in the end Darcy had decided to follow his family members' advice and keep his word to Bingley. Hence, on Monday morning, the first day of October, Darcy would follow Bingley to Hertfordshire.

He had refused to travel with Bingley as it would have meant having to fend off Miss Bingley's very overt efforts to attract his notice. It would be bad enough living in the same house with her for about two months or so.

~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~

Now that his name was known, on Monday, not long after ten in the morning, a stream of gentlemen from the neighbourhood presented themselves to call on Mr Bingley. It was common knowledge he was the son of a tradesman, but with a reputed five thousand pounds per annum. Hence, none of the mothers of daughters old enough to marry cared about his roots.

Bennet arrived at the same time as his friend, Sir William Lucas. Sir William's property, Lucas Lodge, shared a common fence with Bennet's estate on the western border of Longbourn. When Nichols announced them it was only Messrs Bingley and Hurst in the drawing room.

Ignoring her role as mistress, Caroline Bingley refused to entertain a bunch of puffed up country mushrooms, as she called them, so when the first callers arrived, she had withdrawn to her private sitting room, pulling her older sister with her.

Bingley enjoyed meeting his neighbours and welcomed them all enthusiastically. When he heard Mr Bennet had five daughters, he hoped one of them would be his next angel.

As he and Bennet were about to leave, Sir William remembered the Michaelmas assembly which would be on Tuesday, the following day. "Mr Bingley, are you aware there is an assembly in the evening on the morrow? It will be a capital way for you to meet many more of your neighbours," Sir William informed his host.

"I had heard talk of it," Bingley averred, "Would we be welcome?"

"Very much so, yes, you and your party are invited to attend," Sir William responded. His hope was his eldest daughter, Charlotte, who was five and twenty already, might catch Mr Bingley's eye.

"My friend will be joining us later today; may I bring him as well?" Bingley enquired.

"Of course, any resident of your house will be more than welcome," Sir William replied. His only worry was as soon as the men saw Bennet's daughters they would forget Charlotte existed. Could this be the time it would be different?

Bennet had to school his features as he knew what his friend was about. As much as he liked to make sport of his wife, she was not wrong about Jane and her beauty. Although he was not nearly as sociable as his wife, he had seen the mouths hanging open when strangers first beheld his eldest daughter. He had a feeling Mr Bingley would be one of those men. He would consider attending the assembly to put his theory to the test.

~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~

Darcy was not pleased he had been committed to attend a public country ball on the morrow. Until Miss Bingley volunteered to remain with him; he had thought to stay back at the manor house.

As soon as the harridan said she would remain at the house to keep him company, his decision was made—he would attend the assembly.