Chapter 1

Chapter One

FEbrUARY 1799

E ight-year-old Elizabeth Bennet followed her elder sister, Jane, sneaking as they made their way into the stables. “Jane,” she hissed, “Papa will not be happy if he finds us here. The stables are always off-limits, especially when a mare is foaling.”

“All will be well,” ten-year-old Jane replied. “Besides, Papa never gets angry with you when you sneak into the stables.”

“Papa warned me just this morning not to go to the stables today because a mare is foaling. Jane, you heard him. We must not go in. He will be very angry if we disobey him,” Elizabeth replied.

“Lizzy, I have followed you without question on any number of adventures. This time, it is you who must follow me. Now, come,” she demanded.

Praying they would not be discovered, Elizabeth reluctantly went with her sister into the stables. Nearly all the stable hands were standing outside the stall containing the expecting mare, their attention fully absorbed by the imminent birth. This distraction allowed the sisters to slip inside unnoticed .

The stables were faintly lit, the doors flung wide to let in air and light, and a few lanterns were lit at strategic locations to provide enough light so that those who needed to see could. The scent of hay and horses lingered heavily in the air. Jane, moved with a determined excitement, her eyes wide with anticipation. Elizabeth, on the other hand, felt a knot of anxiety tightening in her stomach. She glanced around nervously, half-expecting to hear the stern voice of their father or the disapproving tone of their mother.

Jane pressed forward, reaching the stall where the mare stood. The mare’s sides heaved with each laboured breath, and the stable hands whispered among themselves, offering gentle words of encouragement to the animal.

“Look at her, Lizzy,” Jane whispered.

Elizabeth nodded, her eyes darting between the mare and the stable entrance. The thought of getting caught weighed heavily on her. She replied quietly, “We should not be here, Jane. If Papa finds out-”

“He will not,” Jane interrupted, her tone resolute. “We will just watch for a little while. Please, Lizzy.”

Elizabeth sighed, her resistance weakening. She could not deny Jane this small joy, especially when her sister’s enthusiasm was so palpable. “Just for a few minutes,” she conceded.

As the sisters watched, the stable hands’ murmurs grew more excited. The mare was getting closer to delivering her foal, and the anticipation in the air was almost tangible. Elizabeth found herself momentarily forgetting her worries, caught up in the miracle of new life unfolding before her.

The mare gave a final push, and the soft sound of a newborn foal hitting the straw-covered floor filled the stable. Jane clasped Elizabeth’s hand in her own, her eyes shining with wonder at what she saw. Although they had known it was a messy business before, they were amazed by how easily the mare seemed to bear it and how naturally it all happened. For the most part, the men just stood back and watched, only ready to assist if necessary. They had not been necessary in this birth.

Suddenly, the girls were startled by an unexpected noise. Inadvertently, they had backed up and now stood directly in front of the stall that housed their father’s stallion. The horse did not tolerate anyone except their father and one groom, and it did not like when anyone else approached. Elizabeth heard the noise and tried to pull Jane away from the door, but somehow, when the horse kicked, the door flew open, knocking Jane down.

Elizabeth scrambled toward her, trying to pull Jane away from the horse, but someone grabbed her by the waist, picked her up, and pulled her away from the stallion. The horse bolted toward the group of men, causing them to scramble, and bolted toward the open stable doors.

In just a moment, it was over. The stable hand holding Elizabeth set her down, and she rushed toward Jane. It was obvious her sister was injured, but Elizabeth could not be certain how bad it was from a distance. Jane’s head was bleeding, so Elizabeth used her own skirt to apply pressure to the wound, attempting to stem the flow. Soon, others joined her, and Mr. Bennet scooped Jane up in his arms, carrying her into the house. “You should not have been in here,” he said tersely to Elizabeth.

As soon as the group entered the house and Mrs. Bennet became aware of what had happened, she began shrieking. Seeing Elizabeth behind the others, she immediately began to berate her least favourite child. “ELIZABETH Bennet! You wretched, wretched child! I told you to stay away from Jane. And now look at what you have done. If my sweet Jane is disfigured, it will be your fault. You could have killed her!”

Elizabeth felt the injustice of being blamed for something that was not her fault. “No Mama, I didn’t do anything. It was Jane. Jane, tell Mama it was your idea to go to the stables. I swear t was not my fault.”

Though Elizabeth begged Jane to explain what had happened to their mother, Jane closed her eyes and was silent.

Her eyes filled with tears as her mother’s accusations continued to rain down on her. Mrs. Bennet’s tirade showed no signs of abating, and Elizabeth knew from bitter experience that nothing she said would change their mother’s mind when she was like this. Instead, she swallowed her retorts, knowing they would only make things worse. She stood there, taking the blame, as she always did, feeling a familiar mix of hurt and resignation.

The apothecary arrived soon after this, cutting off the tirade. For hours, Elizabeth sat in the hallway outside Jane’s bedroom awaiting news. Mrs. Bennet had been sedated long ago—her cries and incessant complaints were distracting, and her presence in Jane’s bedroom was in the way of those who needed to give her care. Elizabeth heard only small snippets of conversation, but it seemed they all largely ignored her presence. At one point, the housekeeper chided her to go change her soiled clothing.

Eventually, the house stilled, the apothecary left, and Jane was assigned a maid to sit up with her. Elizabeth attempted to sneak in to see her sister.

“She is well, Miss Lizzy. Mr. Jones gave her some laudanum, and she will sleep well tonight. I think she will have some pain tomorrow, but she will recover,” the maid assigned to watch over her said.

Relieved, Elizabeth thanked the maid for her reassurance and went back into the hallway. Her tears, which she had held back all day, finally spilt. Jane would be well.

The day after the accident, Elizabeth made her way into Jane’s room. “Jane,” Elizabeth said softly, “do you want me to sit with you for a time? Perhaps I can read to you? ”

Jane hesitated, then shook her head. “I am tired, Lizzy. I would like to go to sleep.”

Elizabeth watched her sister for a moment, a lump forming in her throat. “Sleep well, Jane,” she whispered, before leaving the room and shutting the door quietly behind her.

Mrs. Bennet continued to resent her second daughter for Jane’s injury. When Jane was recovered enough to finally make some token protest to her mother’s invectives against her sister, Mrs. Bennet quickly brushed it aside.

“You are a good girl, Jane. There is no need to try to protect Lizzy. You would never have disobeyed your father and gone to the stables if Lizzy had not made you go with her. She is a bad influence on you and you must stay away from her from now on. I do not know why God gave me such a troublesome child. Sometimes, I think she must be a changeling. The fairies came and took the boy I should have had and gave me that unnatural child in its place. "

Elizabeth tried once more to explain what happened but Mrs. Bennet would not listen.

“Do not lie to me, Elizabeth Bennet! I know exactly what happened. You, with your unnatural ways, climbing trees and spending time in the stables. Well, I will not put up with it any longer. This is the last time I will permit you to harm my Jane. You are no longer welcome in my house. I will have your father turn you out. That is exactly what I will do.” Mrs. Bennet pushed Elizabeth out of her way and marched from the room, screaming for Mr. Bennet.

Upon hearing her mother’s threat to send her away, Elizabeth became hysterical. “Why did you not tell Mama, Jane? Why did you not explain that going to the stables was your idea and that you insisted I come with you?”

“Oh, Lizzy, I did not wish to make Mama more upset. I will tell her when she calms down. ”

“It may be too late, Jane, she is going to send me away! Oh, help me, Jane!”

“Do not worry so much, Lizzy. She will not send you away. All will be well.”

Mrs. Bennet’s shrill voice could be heard throughout the house and everyone present witnessed her harsh demands to Mr. Bennet that Elizabeth be sent away. Unfortunately, her father’s voice was quieter and it was impossible to know what he said in response.

From this point on, life changed at Longbourn. Jane began to spend more time with her mother, and less with her younger sisters, especially Elizabeth.

Elizabeth felet even more alone, for she had lost her closest companion, her confidante, and her playmate. Jane’s absence left a void that Elizabeth did not know how to fill. She missed the way Jane’s eyes sparkled with excitement, the warmth of her smile, and the comfort of knowing she always had a friend by her side.

Instead, she spent time with the younger girls, especially Mary, who was more than a year and a half younger than her, but Mrs. Bennet still found ways to berate Elizabeth constantly. This continued for weeks after the accident, and Jane only grew more distant.

“Jane, would you like to go for a walk in the garden?” Elizabeth asked one day early in the spring, her voice hopeful that her sister might have finally forgiven her for whatever she had done to cause the rift between them.

Jane looked up from her sewing, her expression distant. “No, Lizzy, I think I prefer to stay here,” she replied softly.

Elizabeth’s heart sank. “But the flowers are beginning to bloom. You always loved seeing the flowers.”

“I know,” Jane said, forcing a small smile. “Perhaps another time.”

Elizabeth nodded, trying to hide her disappointment. She missed the Jane who would have eagerly jumped at the chance to explore the garden, who would have laughed and chatted with her as they strolled among the flowers. Now, Jane’s polite refusals and lack of enthusiasm were like a constant reminder of how much had changed.

As painful as Jane’s withdrawal was, it also meant that Mrs. Bennet’s treatment of her second daughter grew worse. Mrs. Bennet, always quick to find fault in Elizabeth, seemed to take out her frustration and fear over Jane’s injury on her more than ever. Every minor mistake Elizabeth made was met with sharp criticism. Every attempt to defend herself or explain was dismissed out of hand.

"Enough of your excuses!" Mrs. Bennet snapped. "Why can you not be more like Jane? She never causes me such trouble."

Elizabeth bit her lip, feeling the sting of her mother’s words She tried her best to avoid doing anything that might provoke her mother’s ire, but it seemed that no matter how hard she tried, she could never do anything right in Mrs. Bennet’s eyes.

One evening, after yet another scolding, Elizabeth found herself in the kitchen, helping the maid with the dishes, a punishment for some perceived wrong she had committed during dinner. The warm, soapy water was soothing, and she found comfort in the simple, repetitive task.

The door opened behind her, and Elizabeth turned to see her father enter the room. He looked at her with a mixture of concern and sadness. “Elizabeth,” he said gently, “how are you, my dear?”

“I am well, Papa,” she replied automatically, then sighed. “I just do not understand why Mama hates me. I did not do anything wrong. It was Jane who was determined to go to the stables, I only followed to convince her not to go. Jane even admits to that. But Mama will not listen and continues to blame me for what happened. ”

“I know, Lizzy. I am sorry you are having such a difficult time,” Mr. Bennet said, stepping closer and placing a hand on her shoulder.

Finally, as the spring turned into summer, an unexpected guest arrived at Longbourn. Elizabeth was pleased to see her Uncle Gardiner when she saw him step out of his carriage, though his own expression was stern and serious. She felt a flicker of hope—perhaps he would intervene in the situation between her and her mother, perhaps he would make things right. When he noticed Elizabeth standing there, his face lightened somewhat as he smiled gently at Elizabeth and told her to go pack her things.

“You will be coming to London with me for a time,” he said. “Your aunt and I want you with us.”

Elizabeth stared at him, her heart pounding. “Why, Uncle? Is Mama sending me away like she threatened?” she asked, her voice trembling.

“It has been decided that a change of scenery would do you good,” he replied, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Elizabeth did as she was told but saw her uncle’s face turn angry again as he burst into her father’s study without so much as a knock. After asking Mrs. Hill to bring a trunk down to her room and begin packing her things, she slipped into the small room by the stairs, where she could overhear what was said in the study.

She heard her father’s voice first. “Fanny will not allow her to stay any longer, not after Jane was injured again in her presence.”

“From what I heard you say, Elizabeth did not cause the injury. Both she and Jane insist it had been Jane's idea.”

“It does not matter whose idea it was. Fanny wants her gone. She refuses to let Jane to spend time with her and is constantly referring to her now as a changeling. She is making life intolerable here.”

“For God’s sake, are you unable to control your wife? I know she is difficult, but it is your place to resolve this. ”

“Gardiner, I cannot be vigilant every second of the day. Things have deteriorated so much that I am afraid Fanny will actually injure Elizabeth, as her anger has only worsened. I think she is expecting again, which is perhaps contributing to her uncertain emotional state,” Bennet replied tiredly.

"Bennet, just so we understand each other, if I take Elizabeth, it will be for good. She will not return to this house. I want it in writing,” Gardiner demanded

“Of course, whatever you say,” her father said. Elizabeth gasped at his easy acceptance, though she hid it well.

“I had my solicitor draft this agreement before I came. She will continue to receive one hundred pounds per annum in your lifetime. You owe it to her to give her at least that much.”

“I will do as you insist.”

“There is no going back on this once it is done.”

“Yes, yes, she is yours. Call her Elizabeth Gardiner if you like. Fanny would certainly prefer it.”

“Will you write to her?”

Nothing was said, and Elizabeth assumed her father had declined. He never wrote any letters that he did not absolutely have to.

“Sign the damned paper, Thomas. Elizabeth is now my daughter, not yours. You will never have a claim on her again. If she is not allowed here, then neither will I visit.”

“You will cut off your sister and her family?”

“You are allowing her to cast off her child. Elizabeth will not be welcomed back here; you have said as much. You cannot expect us to leave her in London to travel here. If you wish to send any of her sisters to London, you are welcome to do so. I will, of course, not limit your ability to correspond with Elizabeth, but I will read any letters from you or your wife before giving them to Elizabeth.”

Bennet shrugged at this. It was unlikely he would expend the energy to write to Elizabeth once she left, but he might wish to one day. “I suppose you are correct that you could not leave her in town to come here. When will you be leaving?”

“As soon as Elizabeth is packed.”

With that, Elizabeth turned and ran toward her room, where Mrs. Hill was packing her things in a second trunk. Many things had already been packed, as Mrs. Bennet no longer wanted the two eldest girls to share a room and intended for Elizabeth to move into a small bedroom upstairs, near where the servants stayed.

“I am going to London to live with the Gardiners,” she informed the housekeeper when she entered the room.

“I know, Miss Lizzy.”

“Papa says I will not come back. Ever.”

“I know, dear.”

“Why does Mrs. Bennet hate me?”

Mrs. Hill shook her head. “I have never understood it, my dear. But you will be happy with the Gardiners. They are very good people. It will be better for you there.”

Elizabeth nodded. “Thank you, Mrs. Hill.”

It did not take much longer for the rest of Elizabeth’s things to be packed into two trunks. Mr. Hill carried them downstairs and had them attached to the back of Mr. Gardiner’s carriage, and soon, the two were on their way south to London.