Prologue

May 1536

"Y ou cannot mean you will never see your brother again," the anguished father pleaded with his son and heir. "It was not his fault Charity fell in love with him."

"He stole her from me!" the stubborn son insisted vehemently. "If he had not done so, she would have accepted me! Who would not want to marry a future peer of the realm?"

"That Son, was something your brother understood which you do not. Charity was never interested in wealth and rank. She, like your late mother, is one of those rare gems who cares for things which money cannot attain. She loves your brother, and not you," the father attempted to reason. "Surely you would not be happy with a woman who only chose you for mercenary reasons, and her desire for a title, even if she held no affection for you?"

The son knew what his father said was true, but he would not allow himself to admit such, he was too angry and his stubborn pride would not allow him to recede. He had been raised in a household, regardless how unfashionable those of high society deemed it to be, where his parents shared a deep love and abiding respect for one another. That was until he was fourteen and his brother twelve.

Mother had been with child, only to be lost in childbirth along with the daughter she was trying to bring into the world. Father had been in deep mourning for two years, and he mourned her still. Many women of various ages tried to force themselves into his company, so they could share in his rank and wealth. Father had not looked at any of them and anyone who attempted to entrap him was sent running with her tail between her legs.

None of this meant anything. His brother would marry the woman with whom he had convinced himself he had been in love with, in a matter of days. Regardless of how close he and his brother used to be, his pride would not allow him to face his humiliation and attend the wedding. It was the reason he insisted on the break.

"I want my brother to change his family name so there is no public connection between us!" the son demanded.

"In that I do not support you," the father disagreed. "You are both my sons, and I will not be forced to choose between you."

"Then when I inherit, I will change my name!" the son retorted angrily. There was no doubt he was being unreasonable, but in his mind, he was in pain and this was the best way to mitigate that.

All the father could do was shake his head at his son's stubbornness. His hope was that by the time he was called home his sons would be reconciled and his heir would have forgotten about changing his name.

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

Much to the father's chagrin, rather than his heir's heart softening over the years so there could be reconciliation, it hardened. His older son had settled for a marriage of convenience after claiming he could never love another.

His younger son lived on an estate the father had gifted him when he had married, which had been unentailed as it had come from the father's mother. The older brother vehemently objected to his father bestowing an estate on his brother which, in his mind, by rights should have been his own. Eventually he had conceded his father was free to dispose of that estate as he saw fit. At least the estate was not nearby. Thankfully his brother no longer lived in the same county as himself. It was the only good thing about his father gifting the traitor his own estate. When the time came to inherit, he would not care how close or far his traitorous brother lived from him, as he would be so far above him.

While his younger son's wife Charity gifted him with three sons and two daughters, as soon as his heir's wife bore a son, she locked her door to her husband. The son had been named with the names the resentful son had chosen for himself. Knowing of his brother's felicity only increased the bitterness the older felt for his younger sibling.

The animosity was not improved by the father spending as much time as he was able with his younger son, his wife, and grandchildren. The older brother was so angry his antipathy towards his brother reached the point of hatred.

Seeing his dream of a healing between the brothers would never be realised, the father created an irrevocable entail which would preclude his older son from breaking all ties with his younger son after he had been called home. The father had his secretary write a letter, detailing everything, which would be held by his master's London solicitors, the firm of Rumpole and Crawley.

In August of 1555, the father passed away. Before his body was cold, the older son changed his name and then he denied his younger sibling entrance to his estate to attend their father's funeral.

The new peer was furious his father had thwarted him from beyond the grave making it impossible to stop his brother receiving what had been left to him and his spawn in the will. Even worse, his late father had made it impossible to make the break between the families irrevocable.

By mid-1575 the embittered brother went to his final reward.

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

Hertfordshire, January 1788

Although he did not wish death on the wife who had entrapped him into marriage, Thomas Bennet could not mourn Fanny's loss. Especially as her passing from extreme bleeding after she had given birth to a daughter, opened a door to happiness Bennet had believed had been irrevocably shut.

She had compromised him at a local assembly in Meryton in March 1786. His damned honour had not allowed him to refuse to marry Frances Gardiner, who, at that point, had been an extremely vapid, gossipy seventeen year old of mean understanding. They had nothing in common, but she was an over indulged young lady who had decided she wanted to marry the master of Longbourn. Her mother had passed away when Fanny was twelve, and used to praise her daughter to the skies for her beauty, as if that was the only attribute a man would want in a wife. Unfortunately, her father had been no less indulgent of his daughter. Seeing her father was a solicitor and Bennet a gentleman, the latter could have refused to marry the shrew, but for his sense of honour.

She had been the youngest of three. Her two older siblings were Hattie Philips and Edward Gardiner. Hattie, the eldest, was married to Frank Philips, her father's head clerk. Edward Gardiner, the middle Gardiner offspring was a tradesman living in London. He had apologised profusely to Bennet for the actions of his sister and father. Bennet had assured Gardiner he held him and Mrs. Philips blameless.

Bennet had been living at his estate with his mother, Elizabeth Rose Bennet, called Beth, who was mourning her husband who passed away eight months before the compromise.

It was Bennet's bad luck. He had just returned to society after mourning for his father was completed when Fanny had struck. It had been a double blow because he had been in love with Priscilla Morris—called Cilla—the daughter of Sir Phineas Morris, a baronet who owned Netherfield Park, an estate but three miles from Longbourn.

Sir Phineas's wife, Mary, had passed away within a year of Cilla's birth. The Morrises and Bennets had always been close and Cilla had been seen by Beth Bennet as the daughter she never had thanks to Thomas being her only child. Cilla was a year older than Fanny and at the assembly where he had been compromised, Bennet had intended to request a private interview with the woman he loved to be held the next day.

Bennet's wife refused to learn how to be a proper mistress of the estate as she was not interested in anything beyond gossip and spending money on fripperies. He held firm and refused to allow her one penny beyond her allowance and as she had no idea how to be mistress, he denied her that title and left it with his mother.

When Elias Gardiner had come to plead his daughter's case, Bennet had him ejected from Longbourn telling him never to return. The man had passed away from a heart ailment in February 1787. His son-in-law, Philips, took over the law practise.

There was as little contact with his wife as possible. Bennet did perform his marital duty, as distasteful as he felt the act was with her. Thankfully by July 1787, it had been confirmed Fanny was with child. Bennet gratefully ceased all visits to his wife's chamber. All the woman did was complain about her nerves, flutterings, and palpitations. Seeing her at meal times was more than enough for Bennet and his mother.

As she misunderstood the entail on Longbourn, Fanny was concerned that if her babe was not a male, when her husband passed she would have no home. The entail was one which forbade the selling of any part of Bennet land and only one of Bennet blood could inherit, but as his wife was not able to grasp the nuances of the differences between that and an entail to heirs male, Bennet did not waste his time trying to make her understand. He left her to her worries of being thrown into the hedgerows to starve after he was called home.

As hard as it was to see his Cilla hurting at their being sundered by Fanny's actions, a closeness between the residents of Longbourn and Netherfield Park remained—except for Fanny of course.

As much as he loved Cilla, Bennet—even had he been willing to do so, which he was not—would not consider dishonouring her by suggesting they contravene his marriage vows. One thing he was certain of, was even had he lowered himself to suggest an adulterous affair, Cilla would never have agreed and it would have cost him her friendship.

Although she understood why her Thomas had to do the honourable thing, Cilla had been devastated at losing the only man she would love.

That all changed when Jane Lydia had been born. As much as he disdained his now late wife, she had elicited a promise on her death bed that their daughter be named for her late mother.

Thankfully, one of the tenants at Longbourn had just begun to wean her babe, so she had been employed as a wetnurse for Jane. Beth Bennet was happy to care for her new granddaughter, and like her son, even though she had not wished this on Fanny or any living person, she could not repine Fanny's death.

Gardiner had come from London to attend his sister's funeral. As much as he could not reconcile himself with Fanny's actions and behaviour, she was his sister so he would mourn her as would be expected. He was being hosted at the Philips' house—the one which had belonged to his late father. He, Philips, and Bennet were the only men besides the vicar at the funeral.

Hattie was close to her own lying in so she had not been at Longbourn during the funeral .

Neither Gardiner nor Philips raised a word in objection when Bennet told them he would not be a hypocrite and mourn Fanny as if there had been anything between them.

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

The day after the funeral, Bennet was dressing to ride for Netherfield Park when he heard the sound of a carriage in the drive. His mother was with Jane and the wet nurse, so Bennet made his way to the drawing room in time for his butler, Hill, to lead Sir Phineas and Cilla into the room.

Bennet held his breath when he saw his beloved. She was not what would be called classically beautiful, but to him there was none who approached her beauty. She was on the petite side, with wavy raven locks, and the most bewitching emerald-green eyes. Even during the almost two years he had been tied to that woman, his love for Priscilla Morris had not diminished. If anything, although he believed they would never be together, his love for her had strengthened.

Before either Morris could express their condolences, Bennet stepped towards his beloved Cilla. "I am not mourning. I will not waste a day honouring a woman who had no honour," he blurted out. "Miss Morris, would you grant me the pleasure of a private interview?"

"Yes, Thomas, yes I will marry you…unless you wanted to ask me something else." Priscilla blushed deep scarlet at her presumption.

"Thank you, my Cilla, you saved me a long speech. That is exactly what I wanted to request of you. You have made me the happiest of men." He turned to Sir Phineas. "That is if your father consents and gives us his blessing?"

"Even had I not thought so well of you, I could never deny my Cilla that which I know she desires above all else, so of course you have my blessing and permission to marry my daughter," Sir Phineas granted. "All I can say is it is about time!" He paused. "I assume neither of you want to wait too long to marry, however, I suggest at least a six week engagement. That will stifle any talk about this being a hurried, patched up marriage."

As much as they would have married that very same day, they chose the first Friday in March, the seventh day of that month. With that decided, Bennet rang for Mrs. Hill, his housekeeper, and asked her to summon his mother from the nursery. Beth entered the drawing room with a sleeping Jane in her arms. It did not take a great intellect to interpret the all-encompassing joy she saw on Cilla's face and on her son's countenance. When she was informed of the engagement, she expressed her sincere pleasure that two who were meant for one another were to wed. She would finally gain the young lady she had always thought of as a daughter as one.

Jane, albeit while she slept serenely, was introduced to the Morrises. "I see, at least at this point, she has her mother's colouring," Sir Phineas observed.

"She does," Bennet agreed. To himself he added silently, ‘ And I will work to make sure that will be her only similarity to her birth mother. '

"She is so very dear," Cilla asserted. She looked from the babe in her soon-to-be mother-in-law's arms and to her soon-to-be husband. "Thomas, your daughter will be as much a daughter to me as any other children with which we are blessed."

"I would never have expected anything less from you my love," Bennet responded.

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

Holder Heights Easter 1789

Four families linked by many years of friendship as well as some familial relationships thanks to marriages over the years, had all assembled in Staffordshire by the seventh of April, five days before the holy day of Easter.

The last to arrive were the Rhys-Davies family who, seeing their primary estate was in Bedfordshire, had the farthest to travel. The Darcys and Fitzwilliams had arrived together as the former's estate of Pemberley was less than ten miles from the latter's of Snowhaven; both were in Derbyshire. The hosts, the Carringtons, were pleased to host the Easter get-together this year.

All four sets of parents had made love matches. Given their ranks and wealth, they never allowed the derision of members of the Ton to affect them. Regardless of the opinions it was a plebian value to marry for love, none of them would ever change the way they had selected their spouse. The four men had all come into their inheritance, and for those who were peers, their titles over the years. The last one of the group to inherit was Robert Darcy whose father was called home three years previously.

Of the four families, only the Darcys were not peers of the realm. Robert Darcy, as all Darcys before him bore no title, and like his forebearers, had resisted any attempts to bestow one upon him. His wife. Lady Anne Darcy, née Fitzwilliam, was the sister of Lord Reginald Fitzwilliam, the Earl of Matlock. His countess was Lady Elaine Fitzwilliam, who was the first cousin of Lady Rose Rhys-Davies, married to Lord Sedgewick, the Duke of Bedford. The final set of parents were Lady Edith Carrington, the hostess and Countess of Holder, and her husband, Paul, the Earl of Holder.

Between the families at Holder Heights, there was a large group of children. So far there were three Rhys-Davies—Sed, the Marquess of Birchington, nine, Saul who was two years younger, and lastly Marie who had recently turned three—two Carringtons—James, Viscount Hadlock was eight, and Emily was five—two Fitzwilliams—Andrew, Viscount Hilldale was nine, and Richard, who was seven—and lastly one Darcy—Fitzwilliam, called William by all, was six.

The sisters-in-law, Elaine and Anne, both prayed they would be blessed with a girl babe one day. They knew it was in His hands, but it did not stop them reminding Him of their preference for a daughter.

Since Richard, Elaine had experienced two miscarriages while Anne had three after William, and two before him. She was aware she placed herself in danger each time she was in the family way, but Lady Anne Darcy was determined to give her husband another child and William a sibling.

As Anne thought of siblings, she could not but think of her sister who was not present. Anne was in fact the youngest, and Reggie the middle Fitzwilliam. Their older sister was Lady Catherine de Bourgh. Catherine had demurred as her only child, Anne, who was four, was ill again.

Catherine had married a wealthy knight by the name of Sir Lewis de Bourgh. His estate of Rosings Park in Kent was not as large as any of the primary estates of the four families together for Easter, but it was a good size and cleared almost seven thousand pounds per annum. Unfortunately, Catherine's husband was somewhat of a lecher and was not careful where he found his pleasure which was why Catherine's door had been locked to him once she was with child, and since Anne was born, it had never been unlocked again.

Even though her sister had faults, Lady Anne loved her sister and missed her. With all of Catherine's quirks, like thinking she knew everything about anything, and giving her opinions—which were usually wrong—whether asked for or not, and had very decided opinions about either Andrew or William being engaged to her daughter, she was never malicious.

Within a year of Anne de Bourgh being born, Sir Lewis had been diagnosed with the French disease. Before Anne turned four, he had succumbed to a virulent strain of the pox he had contracted. Catherine had been humiliated that he had made bequests to two mistresses and the madam of a bordello, but she had borne it with dignity. Rosings Park, de Bourgh House on Berkeley Square, and the remainder of his fortune would be his daughter‘s when she married or attained the age of five and twenty. Until then it was all held in trust.

After her husband passed away, Catherine's insistence that one of her nephews should be engaged to Anne, was significantly increased. As much as her siblings and their family loved her, when Catherine made such pronouncements, they ignored it.

Lady Anne was looking forward to seeing Catherine and her namesake when the Darcys and Fitzwilliams would spend a few days at Rosings Park after Easter.

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

Longbourn March 1790

Bennet was pacing in his library being watched by his father-in-law and the two men, who although no longer related to him, he still considered brothers-in-law.

Cilla was upstairs with his mother, Hattie, Mrs. Hill, and the midwife Mrs. Mary Brown. From the screams which could be heard all the way downstairs in the library, she was not far from giving birth.

"How are the twins?" Gardiner asked his brother, Frank Philips. In October of the same year Jane was born, Hattie Philips had delivered Elias and Lydia.

"They are both well," Philips averred. "It is no surprise that Lydia began to both talk and walk before Elias, but he is already growing to be larger than her." Talking of his children caused Philips to cogitate. He still could not believe he and Hattie had been blessed with one child, never mind two. They had been married more than five years and there had been nothing. Then, just when they had given up hope, Hattie had shared she was with child.

At that moment the men noticed it was quiet upstairs. Bennet threw the door open and with as much speed as he could, ran up the stairs, taking them two or three at a time. He relaxed when he saw his mother exit the chamber with Mrs. Hill and Hattie because all three were beaming.

"Go meet your daughter, Thomas," Beth suggested as she kissed her son's cheek.

He did not need a second prompting. Bennet knocked and entered the birthing chamber without waiting for an answer. He saw Mrs. Brown cleaning her instruments and then roll them up in a piece of canvas. Then his eyes swivelled to his beloved, who was sitting up in the bed, a tired smile on her face. In her arms was a swaddled bundle. All Bennet could see of his…Mother had said…yes, a daughter, was a shock of dark hair which looked to be the same colour as Cilla's.

"Come meet your second daughter, Thomas," Priscilla invited. "Jane will be ever so pleased to be gifted a sister, even if she cannot play with her for some time yet."

At just over two, Jane was, according to Hattie and Gardiner, the image of her late mother at the same age. She was a loving and inquisitive toddler.

Cilla patted the bed and Bennet sat where his wife indicated. She gently placed the sleeping bundle into her husband's ready arms. The little mite scrunched up her nose as if she was about to wail, but she settled again. As Bennet looked at his new daughter's face, he could see she already had long eyelashes, like her mother, and her skin tone was similar to her mother's, not only her hair.

"What should we name her, Cilla my dearest wife?" Bennet enquired.

"I was thinking of naming her Elizabeth Rose Bennet, after Mother," Priscilla suggested. "We can call her Lizzy so there is no confusion with Mother called Beth."

"Do you not want to name her Mary after your late mother?" Bennet verified.

"If we are gifted another daughter, she will be named Mary, but Mother is the only mother I am able to remember, so I would truly like to name our new daughter in your mother's honour."

"In that case, welcome to the world Lizzy," Bennet stated as his new daughter gripped his thumb.

He could see she was stirring so Bennet handed Elizabeth back to her mother to receive some sustenance.