Chapter 1

T he Bennet family had gathered in the dining room for an early dinner, the table set with an array of simple but hearty dishes. Mr. Bennet sat comfortably with a book while he forked bits of mutton, occasionally glancing over his spectacles at his daughters. Jane and Elizabeth were seated near the head of the table, quietly conversing, while Kitty and Lydia chattered excitedly about the prospect of meeting the new tenant of Netherfield Park, Mr. Bingley.

Mrs. Bennet, presiding over the meal with a bustling energy, could not restrain herself from addressing her husband with a mixture of urgency and frustration. "My dear, Mr. Bennet, it vexes me endlessly that you have not yet paid a visit to Mr. Bingley at Netherfield! A gentleman of five thousand a year and no known wife or betrothal! Surely, you must see the advantage of securing such a match for one of our daughters."

Mr. Bennet, cutting into his mutton with deliberate calm, looked up with a quizzical smile. "My dear, I assure you, I am not indifferent to Mr. Bingley's merits, as you have so often reminded me. However, you seem to forget that we are expecting another guest today. I received a letter just yesterday from our cousin Mr. Collins, the parson, who is due to arrive this very evening or tomorrow morning."

Mrs. Bennet's face fell momentarily at the reminder of Mr. Collins's impending visit, but she quickly recovered. "Ah, Mr. Collins! But he is no Mr. Bingley, is he? Mr. Bingley is young, handsome, and rich, while Mr. Collins... well, he has a good living, I suppose. That's about all I know about him."

"Indeed, Mr. Collins writes in a most formal style, expressing his desire to atone for any past neglect and emphasizing his respect for Lady Catherine de Bourgh, his esteemed patroness. It seems he is quite anxious to make our acquaintance." Mr. Bennet, enjoying the turn of the conversation, elaborated

Elizabeth, curious about this unknown relative whom she and her sisters had only heard of in passing conversation, asked, "Did he say anything about his character or his expectations for the visit?"

"Only that he hopes to establish a good rapport with us and looks forward to making amends for the entail. It seems he is aware of the awkwardness of his position." Mr. Bennet chuckled softly.

Jane, ever hopeful, added, "Perhaps he will surprise us with his manners and conversation. It will be interesting to meet him."

Lydia, less interested, sighed, "I just hope he is not dull."

The conversation continued over the clinking of cutlery and the occasional scrape of chair legs on the floor. Mr. Bennet, seemingly content with the turn of the discussion, decided to introduce a new topic. "Speaking of visitors, I have heard some troubling news from Meryton. It seems an officer of the militia has departed suddenly, leaving behind a young lady in scandal after promising her marriage. It is a sobering reminder, my dear daughters, that not all who wear a dashing uniform are as dependable in character as their appearance might suggest."

Elizabeth, her eyes twinkling with amusement, responded, "You need not concern yourself on my account, father. The officer you saw me speaking with was Mr. Wickham, and he has since left town on some urgent business. He mentioned something about a pressing matter that required his attention." She felt compelled to make the explanation, having thought her father was referring to her since he had seen her with Mr. Wickham more than once.

"Mr. Wickham is such a gentleman! And so handsome in his regimentals. Oh, how I wish he would return soon!" Lydia, barely containing her excitement, interjected.

"Well, it is true that the militia do make very fine husbands. A man in uniform is always so respectable and well-positioned." Mrs. Bennet added.

Kitty, echoing her sister's sentiments, said, "Indeed, Lydia! The militia are the most charming of all men. Their red coats and epaulettes are simply splendid!"

"Ah, splendid indeed! Just as a flash of lightning is splendid, though it is wise to avoid being struck by it. Perhaps a little less splendour and a bit more substance would suit better, especially for those not seeking to dazzle but to endure." Mr. Bennet, always ready with a jest, chuckled.

Elizabeth cracked with laughter first before Jane joined her in a full burst of laughter. Even Mary, who had been silent throughout the conversation, sneaked a smile. As the laughter subsided, the sound of wheels and hoofbeats was heard approaching the house, soon followed by the distinct knock of the at the door. Mrs. Bennet, her eyes widening slightly, remarked, "It must be Mr. Collins. Or who else could it be?"

The butler, Mr. Hill, a man in his early fifties, entered the dining room with a formal bow. "A visitor, sir. A gentleman by the name of Mr. Darcy has arrived. He appears to have happened upon Longbourn while trying to find Netherfield."

A hush fell over the room as everyone absorbed this unexpected news. Mrs. Bennet, recovering first, rose with alacrity. "Mr. Darcy? He must be a friend of Mr. Bingley's if he is looking for Netherfield! How fortunate! This could be an excellent opportunity to start our acquaintance with Mr. Bingley. But why is he out so late? You must invite him in at once, and of course, he must join us for dinner.

Mr. Bennet, a bemused expression on his face, murmured, "Indeed, this is an unexpected turn of events. Mr. Hill, please show Mr. Darcy in."

The family awaited Mr. Darcy's entrance with everyone staring in the direction of the door, Elizabeth felt a flutter of curiosity, wondering about this unknown gentleman who had so serendipitously arrived at their doorstep. The younger Bennet sisters whispered excitedly about the presence of such a distinguished visitor, while Mrs. Bennet, her thoughts never far from her matrimonial ambitions, considered the potential advantages of this visit.

Mr. Hill announced Mr. Darcy as he entered the room, introducing him to Mr. and Mrs. Bennet. Darcy, acknowledging the couple, briefly explained his predicament.

"Mr. Darcy, you are most welcome!" Mrs. Bennet, ever the gracious hostess, smiled broadly. "We were just having a dinner. Please, do join us. It is such a pleasure to have you here."

Darcy's brow furrowed, though slightly taken aback by the unexpected invitation, replied with a measured tone, "Thank you, Mrs. Bennet, but I must decline. Mr. Bingley will be expecting me, and I would not want to delay any further. However, I appreciate your kind offer."

Mrs. Bennet, undeterred, continued, "Of course, Mr. Darcy. Before you leave, may I introduce my daughters? This is Jane, our eldest, and next to her is Elizabeth. Over there are Mary, Kitty, and Lydia."

Darcy acknowledged each introduction with a polite nod, his expression remaining impassive. Elizabeth, seated across from where he stood, found herself observing him with close curiosity, noting the subtle distance in his demeanour and wondering what had prompted him to visit Mr. Bingley. Although she had yet to make the acquaintance of their new neighbour, she hoped all was well and that Mr. Darcy had not come to deliver any upsetting news, given his apparent haste. Despite her preoccupations, Mr. Darcy's handsome features did not escape her notice, though she promptly chastised herself for entertaining such thoughts.

"Mr. Darcy, it would be no trouble at all for me to accompany you to Netherfield. I could show you the way myself." Mr. Bennet announced.

"Thank you, Mr. Bennet, but perhaps Mr. Hill or one of the other servants could guide me. I would not want to take you away from your family at this hour." Darcy, maintaining his reserved demeanour, responded.

Mrs. Bennet, realizing the opportunity, quickly interjected, "Oh, nonsense, Mr. Darcy! It would be an excellent chance for Mr. Bennet to finally meet Mr. Bingley. Do let him accompany you."

"Indeed, I insist. It would be my pleasure to see you safely to Netherfield and make Mr. Bingley's acquaintance." Mr. Bennet added, nodding in agreement.

Darcy, though still hesitant, nodded politely. "Very well, Mr. Bennet. I appreciate your assistance."

As Mr. Bennet grabbed his coat to leave with Mr. Darcy, Mrs. Bennet could hardly contain her excitement. "What a fortunate turn of events! I do hope this will lead to many more pleasant visits." She whispered under her breath.

The Bennet sisters and their mother, intrigued by the sudden development, accompanied their father and Mr. Darcy outside. Elizabeth, particularly, found herself pondering the day's unexpected events and what they might signify.

When the carriage carrying Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bennet were way out of sight, the rest of the family went back inside to resume their meal. The conversation was now abuzz with speculation about Mr. Darcy and his connection to Mr. Bingley. Mrs. Bennet, her thoughts already racing ahead, began to plan for future events. "Well, girls, it seems we shall soon have much to prepare for. Imagine meeting Mr. Bingley's friend first! Mrs. Long will be positively green with envy when she hears that Mr. Darcy, called at our home before anywhere else."

"Mr. Darcy lost his way, Mama. It was not a social call. We mustn't misinterpret his visit." Jane gently corrected her mother.

Mrs. Bennet huffed, "Lost his way or not, Jane, it is still an honour that he ended up here. It shows that Longbourn is not to be overlooked!"

Lydia, with her usual excitement, added, "I just hope Mr. Bingley isn't like Mr. Darcy, who didn't smile at all! How dull that would be."

"It is not just about appearances, Lydia. We must consider the character and virtues of our guests. As father said, substance is more important than splendour." Mary interjected thoughtfully.

"Yes, Mary, you are quite right. And while it is exciting to think of new acquaintances, we should remember that first impressions can be misleading. Mr. Darcy may be reserved, but there is often more to a person than what meets the eye. We shall see what comes of these new connections." Elizabeth concluded, before returning to her plate of food.

While the rest of the party returned to their conversation, Elizabeth could not help but consider the day's events, particularly Mr. Darcy. Although he hadn't said much, there was something about his distant demeanour—something different she couldn't quite place. One thing was sure, however; unlike Mr. Wickham who was an open book to her, Mr. Darcy was a mystery she felt compelled to understand.