Chapter 1

1

November 1794

B ennet pressed his hands over his ears. His three-year-old daughter was having another tantrum, and this one was in the hall right outside his library.

Mrs. Bennet was shrieking in rage, which was making the whole thing worse. He knew the nurserymaid would have no chance against the stubbornness of young Elizabeth defying the nerves of his wife.

He sighed, climbed to his feet, and hauled the door open. "Enough!" he bellowed. Then he lowered his voice. "What is it this time?"

Shocked into silence, the only sound was little hiccups of sobs from Elizabeth, and Bennet's heart melted. He frowned; enchanting or not, he could not allow these tantrums to continue.

He glared at his wife. "Perhaps you can explain to me — quietly — madam, what the problem is?"

"It is Lizzy again, Mr. Bennet. That girl! Oh my poor nerves, no one knows how I suffer!"

He raised his hand to prevent more effusions of anger from her, and turned to the nurserymaid, frozen in the act of holding his daughter's coat. He could see his elder child, Jane, trying to squeeze past her, no doubt attempting to reach her younger sister to calm her.

"All right, Bessie. Is this because Elizabeth does not want to go for a walk? It is surprising, because I know she loves being out of doors."

"Yes, Mr. Bennet." The girl bobbed a curtsy. "She wanted to finish playing the piano before she came with us, sir."

"I will not have that terrible noise where she is always banging on the piano, Mr. Bennet. It goes right through my head." His wife drew breath. "I must insist you forbid her anywhere near the instrument ever again!"

Elizabeth set up a cry of outrage and anguish.

"That's enough! From all of you," Bennet roared.

"Papa?" Jane's quiet, but anxious, voice broke the silent tableaux.

He turned to her.

"Yes, Jane?"

"Lizzy just wanted to finish what she was trying to do, sir. It was only that she was pulled away without any warning." She looked quite desperate. "Her music is very pretty, Papa. She is much better than me."

Bennet stared down at her, frowning. Mrs. Bennet drew breath, and he lifted his hand again to silence her. He had to admit to himself that he hadn't taken much notice of the plunking sound of the piano, or which of his daughters was entertaining herself.

In the past, Mrs. Bennet had occasionally tried to remember a tune or two, but her lack of talent was unpleasing to him, and he'd been glad when she couldn't play during the final stages of her last confinement. The pianoforte had been banished to the back parlour, and he'd sighed with relief. But young Mary was here, and after he had managed to curb the disappointment of yet another daughter, he'd vanished back into his library. And now there was yet another babe on the way. Maybe his prayers would be heard this time, and a son would arrive to break the entail. But his wife's anxieties were increasing as time went by, and Elizabeth wasn't inclined to forgive what she could not understand.

"Very well," he said finally. "Bessie, please take Jane's coat off, and delay your walk out for half an hour. Elizabeth, come with me. I want you to show me what you have been doing on the instrument." He turned to his wife.

"Mrs. Bennet, please go to the sitting room and ring for refreshments to be ready in half an hour. I will join you as soon as the girls have gone out for their walk."

His wife huffed in annoyance and flounced away. As the door banged behind her, he shook his head; however would his daughters learn decorum and good behaviour with such an example?

Elizabeth's tiny hand crept into his, and she tugged it, her beaming smile only marred by the dried tear tracks on her cheeks. "Come, Papa. New thing."

Bennet smiled at Jane. "Thank you, my dear. Bessie can perhaps get you a drink and a sweetmeat for having to wait."

In the back parlour, Elizabeth let go of his hand and rushed over to the piano, pushing at the stool so it was closer to the keys, before she clambered laboriously onto it. Her face was alight with happiness — and there was something else in her expression. Bennet wasn't sure what it was.

"All right, my dear. Show me this new thing." He was resigned to listening to some tuneless banging, and then he would insist that Elizabeth be allowed to play early in the mornings before her mother came downstairs. That would solve the problem, but for now, he must be encouraging; any love of learning needed praise and respect.

He leaned back, watching as his daughter touched the keys reverently, sliding each finger down the length of the keys lovingly. Then she smiled, and began playing a little tune, her whole hand having to move as her finger span was not great enough to reach from one key past the next.

His attention caught; he'd not heard that tune before, and he wondered where she might have heard it. Then his surprise increased as she began using both her hands to play simple chords at the lower range, and as her right hand reached for a black key, a haunting tone seemed to emanate from the instrument.

He listened, quite entranced, for several more minutes until she stopped, and huffed in annoyance. Then she began repeating the last phrase or two several times, playing different notes to try to make the tune work, the pressure on the keys increasing as she became rather frustrated, attempting different notes.

Bennet leaned forward; Elizabeth was humming the tune she wanted, each note pure and true, and he listened in amazement as she found the right notes and moved on through the music.

Finally, she sighed happily, and her hands dropped in her lap.

"Better now?" he enquired, and she turned to beam at him.

"It wasn't working right, Papa. But now it is."

"So you don't mind going for your walk so I can take tea with your mama?"

Elizabeth nodded vigorously and slid off the stool. He rose to his feet, enjoying her trust as her hand slipped into his. He looked down at her. "So where did you hear that tune, Elizabeth? I don't recall having heard it before."

Her gaze was bemused. "It was in my head, Papa. So you couldn't hear it. I had to play it."

His eyebrows shot up. "So can you sing it to me?"

She frowned. "Only the top tune, Papa. It needs the bottom notes too, to sound right."

"I understand. But can you sing me the top tune?"

She nodded happily and began to sing, not trying to add words, and Bennet was struck by how little she sounded like a small child. At the end, she looked up at him uncertainly, and he dropped to one knee to be on a level with her.

"My dear, that was beautiful. You are very clever to be able to hear a song in your head and learn how to find the same notes on the instrument." He leaned forward and dropped a kiss on her forehead. "I am very proud of you. How would you like it if I arrange that you play the piano in here in the mornings before Mama comes downstairs? Then she won't hear you as her chambers are at the front of the house."

His daughter reached up on her tiptoes and tried to kiss his cheek, and Bennet had to drop his head so she could reach.

"Papa, it will be wonderful," she said, and let go his hand to dance around the room, before sobering. "Will Mama be angry with you?"

"No, my dear. You are not to worry about that at all. And I will try to find a lady who likes music to come and play with you when your mama goes out for her visits."

He would worry about Mrs. Bennet's next confinement later; when she was confined to the house, she was always very difficult. Although he supposed Bessie could take Elizabeth to the home of whatever woman he found once or twice a week if it seemed expedient.

He chuckled; he could hope his brother Gardiner would soon marry sensibly, and Elizabeth could spend a few weeks in London with them each year to access music masters.

He wondered at Elizabeth's apparent talent. It seemed to him to be significant. But it would be important to keep knowledge of it as quiet as possible, to allow her to be a child. He would have to set limits.

He smiled to himself; it was to be hoped that Elizabeth's stubbornness would not prevent her living the life he wanted for her. Joy, happiness, and curiosity for the world around her. That was what he wanted for all his children.