Jump to new as of September 30, 2005

Chapter 1

Posted on Thursday, 28 July 2005

Mr. Bennet stared out of the window of his lavish Netherfield library. His love of books meant that his library was far from neglected. The walls were completely full of books, all of them worn, and none left unread. The books covered all genres; non-fiction, history, comedy and plenty more. The library was decorated finely but with all the good taste of the owner. The master of the estate spent most of his time in this room. It was his sanctuary from the prattling of his wife and the decoration of the area demonstrated his sole influence over this room in comparison with his wife's over the rest of the house.

His eyes were following his eldest daughter. Elizabeth Bennet was nineteen and possessed all the beauty that her mother had had when he married her. She was beautiful, with long, brown curls that were tied tightly in a bun, with only a few wild escaping wisps that blew uncontrollably in the wind. Her face was pale, but not sickly, in contrast with her dark hair and rosy lips. Her figure was healthy and robust, not large but not slight, which showed the exercise which she was so fond of partaking in.

He watched as she walked dreamily around the freshly cut garden - her body in the garden, but her mind off in a place that he couldn't see. She reached her arms in the air, almost in a yawn and brushed the sapling above her head. It seemed as if she was floating on air but her feet still remained on the ground safely. The summer sun shone brightly over his daughter, his favourite child.

She had changed since she had returned from London not six months before. She had been staying with his sister-in-law, and her husband, Lord and Lady Douglas. Even though Lady Annabel Douglas was the sister of his silly wife, she was quite the contrary in sense and intelligence. Elizabeth had travelled to their townhouse in Mayfair in the previous September to spend the autumn with her beloved Aunt and Uncle and to be introduced into the London society.

According to a missive received from his brother-in-law, nothing worth reporting occurred during Elizabeth's four months with them. She had been presented at a few of the balls of the ton, as a woman with her connections and wealth would be expected to. She had many of the admirers a woman of her connections and wealth would be likely to receive. The men admired her beauty, wit and vivacity, and her dance card was always full. However, her relations reported that there was no sole suitor who either fell attracted to her or captured her own heart.

Mr. Bennet was unsure about this though. He had never seen his treasured daughter so out of sorts. She didn't seem ill or tired, and neither did she talk or exercise her wit any less than before she had left; but when she was alone, wandering the gardens and grounds of the countryside, in the fields and woodlands that she was most happy, she went off into another world. A world where she would glide around the grass, or dance to herself, imagining that she was in the arms of someone other than thin air.

"Lizzy! Lizzy!" was the shout which woke Mr. Bennet from his gazing and pondering over his jewel. It did not do its purpose in waking the person in question though, as she still remained in a strange amount of awe over the very usual clouds. After the woman who was approaching his daughter shouted once again, Elizabeth awoke finally and registered the newcomer to the grounds.

"Charlotte! It has been an age since we last spoke!"

"Dearest Lizzy, it has been no more than a week!" Charlotte laughed as she embraced her darling, younger friend.

"Really?" she questioned, and then added upon reflection, "Indeed, it must have been six or seven days since you last called! Ah, well time doesn't go particularly quickly whilst in the countryside."

"Are you missing London? I thought that you were pleased to be home?"

"I am, it is refreshing to be out in the countryside again, but you have to acknowledge that there are infinitely more things to occupy yourself with when you are in town. Why, there are balls and parties every night! And during the day, there are the shops, the theatres, the parks and there are so very many people to call on that one is never bored!" Elizabeth enthused excessively about London. Whenever someone would ask her how her trip was, it was like any other traveller's account. There was the excitement and enjoyment that was clearly obvious, but apart from the general expression of the activities pursued, nothing of real interest was ever understood by anyone other than the person who went.

"And of course, the society of Hertfordshire is hardly acceptable for a belle of the ton such as yourself. Is it Miss Bennet?"

Elizabeth laughed at her friends teasing and said, "Dear Charlotte, you are well aware that the gentlemen that I met in London were hardly suitors! They danced and flirted, but I lost count of the gentlemen who I never saw more than once. There were plenty more of them than in Hertfordshire I must admit! However, they all admired me most devotedly though..."

"Enough, enough, Lizzy!" Charlotte interrupted, "are you trying to make me jealous?" Elizabeth laughed and she continued speaking in a voice of mock admiration and started prancing in a snooty fashion, "but shouldn't I be flattered that the exceedingly beautiful, witty, intelligent, marvellous, caring and rich Miss Bennet of Netherfield should even deem it necessary to talk to a lowlife as me?"

Miss Bennet and her friend could be seen from inside the house as close to rolling on the floor in laughter as possible whilst still being seen as respectable young ladies. Elizabeth and Charlotte were the closest of friends. Despite their six year age gap, their difference in wealth and their completely contrasting appearances, they got on especially well. Elizabeth was the romantic one and Charlotte, perhaps due to her lower station in life, was the sensible and practical one. But they both had an excessively good sense of wit and humour and their visits to each other always included many laughs.

"Well, your grace," Charlotte continued after their laughter had subsided, "I have come here today to invite you to a party at Lucas Lodge next Saturday."

"I love parties! I would be most happy to attend. But, you must ensure that the pianoforte is locked away lest my sister Mary bring her 'music'."

"The solution to that problem would be to make sure that you get to the instrument before your sister does. But Lizzy, you are mean to poor Mary. She tries so hard to improve herself but she is only just sixteen, she has plenty of time to be as good as you."

Elizabeth sat down on the stone bench inside the grove that they had been walking up and down. "Poor Mary! She is my sister, so I love her most dearly, but she does have such dreadful pomp and conceit as she is playing. If only she could learn to enjoy the music as much as I do, it would make her playing ten times more enjoyable to listen to. But all she sees music as a way to make herself more accomplished."

Charlotte joined her friend on the bench and turned serious as she replied, "You are blessed with many virtues, Lizzy. Mary is the only plain one of all your sisters. She has to try harder to get herself noticed under your shadow."

Lizzy thought for a moment before saying, "I know that. I shouldn't say such things about her, I do try to get her to come out a bit more, but her diligent pianoforte practising and her excessive reading of Fordyce's sermons keeps her too occupied."

Elizabeth sighed and began walking around the grove again. Mr. Bennet had been watching their discussion from his window and could see that it had changed from a joke to a serious discussion. He approved of Miss Lucas a lot. She was a prudent and rational young woman who his daughter got on with well. He let the two women continue their conversation unwatched and returned to his book.

The peace and solitude that he had whilst reading didn't last very long as only three or four minutes later, a high pitched squeal followed by a, "Oh! What on earth is that child doing?" could be heard. The shout came from the morning sitting room where Mr. Bennet knew that his wife was sitting in with her younger children. This outburst was followed by the sound of someone descending the staircase rapidly and rushing out into the garden.

Catherine Bennet may have been an overlooked child, as she was the third in a family of five and the middle child is often subjected to a lack of attention, but thankfully, she was, even at the tender age of fourteen without a doubt the next in beauty. She admired her eldest sister greatly and always tried to follow in her example. Elizabeth was equally fond of Catherine and as she had been growing up, Elizabeth had spent hours playing with her and doting on her.

Catherine skipped gracefully out to where Elizabeth and Charlotte were walking around the neatly kept gardens. "Lizzy!" she cried, "Lizzy!" She reached where they were standing and she caught her breath quickly and said, "Mama says that you must come inside and that you are putting your health at risk out here."

Lizzy laughed and said, "What, Cathy? Is standing out here with Charlotte likely to make me unwell? Dear Charlotte," she spoke in jest to her friend, "you must leave, for you are damaging my health when you are in my presence!"

Charlotte and Catherine laughed at the expense of the panicky Mrs. Bennet before Catherine continued with, "No, Lizzy, Mama meant that standing out here in the sun without a bonnet or a parasol could mean that your complexion is ruined and then she started on about how you would be ruined because no man would ever wish to marry you when your complexion was so dreadful and then you would end up an old albeit rich maid."

"Ah, dear Mama! Always worried about my future. When I came back from London and she discovered that I wasn't engaged, she almost collapsed!"

"Why would you want to get engaged so young, sister? I hope that you don't. You cannot leave Netherfield yet!"

Elizabeth hugged her younger sister and replied, "Of course I am not planning on leaving yet! You will have to put up with me for a few more years yet. But, we had better do what our mother tells us to, Catherine. She will go distracted if we don't. Charlotte? Do you want to join us for tea in the morning room?"

Charlotte agreed as she had to issue an official invitation to the party to the Bennets. The three of them walked up the path towards the drive of Netherfield. The building was large but handsome. It dated back to the seventeenth century, when a Mr. Bennet commissioned for it to be built. The drive didn't come to the house in a straight path, like many other of the houses in the neighbourhood. Such was the grandness of this estate that the path was a straight path that continued passed the house and joined with the road some three miles in either direction.

Elizabeth led the way, her boldness obvious with every stride as her sister and friend walked to her left and right almost like escorts to the standard bearing Elizabeth. The two Bennet ladies were suitably dressed for their activity. Elizabeth was rich enough to wear the finest London fashions all the time, but though her mother insisted she had them, she very rarely wore them. Pretty and simple muslin gowns were all that she wanted to wear when in the country. The silk and satin lace gowns of the ton were completely impractical for all the roaming and walking that Elizabeth enjoyed. Also, wearing such finery made her feel out of place with her poorer country companions and she disliked her friends feeling uncomfortable in her presence.

As they entered the house, they immediately heard Jean-Philippe Rameau's Allemande I from the 1706 Pièces* being banged away on the pianoforte. The solemn and harsh tones were hardly being played in an entertaining or even enjoyable way; the pianissimo's being forte and then forte's being treble the volume of a fortissimo. As they passed the drawing room in which Mary was doing such an injustice to the beautiful Steinway grand pianoforte, they could see her face. Her expression could only be described as determined and concentrated, not at all resembling the sort of face you would see if the person performing was actually enjoying the music.

They ascended the stairs and approached the room where Mrs. Bennet was sitting with the ten year old Lydia Bennet. Mrs. Bennet had decorated this room with her own taste and love of refinery in mind. This was the room where Mrs. Bennet received visitors who had come to call; and since she rarely had visitors which were above the Bennets in rank, she deliberately made the room overbearing and full of grandeur so that the visitors would not forget their place and remember how wealthy the Bennets actually were.

Miss Lydia Bennet had just turned ten and was quite spoilt by her mother, perhaps due to the fact that she was the daughter who was closest to Mrs. Bennet's characteristics. She was bubbly and animated, like her eldest sister, but even at the age of ten, was showing signs of turning into her mother, becoming not vivacious like Elizabeth, but loud and vociferous. Lydia was sitting with her mother who was reclined elegantly, drinking tea out of an expensive, china teacup.

Mrs. Bennet didn't look out of place in her deep green, satin dress which went well with the green and golden walls in the room. There were about five identically decorated sofas all facing inwards to the centre of the room. The walls were covered in paintings and a few portraits. The most distinctive portrait was of Mrs. Bennet as a young woman. Mrs. Bennet always sat underneath her portrait. This was partly so people could see her beautiful youth and partly so she couldn't see the reminder of her previous, vanished splendour. As she sat under it, the fine and bright eyes that used to shine and sparkle could be seen. Her eyes were the main feature of beauty that had been passed on to her eldest daughter. Mrs. Bennet's fine eyes were now dull and her face weary after twenty years and five children.

Perhaps the fact that Elizabeth now had all the admirers that she had once had contributed to why Mrs. Bennet didn't like Elizabeth as much as her other children. Another reason could be that Miss Bennet had all the wit and sarcasm of her husband, the wit and sarcasm that Mrs. Bennet had grown to despise. She still cared for Elizabeth at times, after all, Elizabeth was the most likely of all her daughters to make the best marriage. But what Mrs. Bennet couldn't understand was why her eldest daughter insisted on running around the countryside like a wild horse or why she dressed as if she wasn't an heiress to a large dowry.

"Good morning, Mama," Elizabeth said as she entered the room. She walked towards her mother who was sitting in her usual seat and kissed her cheek affectionately. "Charlotte has come to visit Mama and also to issue an invitation to a party to be held by Sir William."

"Ah, hello Miss Lucas. What is this of a party?"

"My father wished to throw a party to start off the summer properly. I have an invitation here, Mrs. Bennet. We would be most grateful if you attend with your family."

"I am sure that I would like to go, should my health allow when the day comes around. I would very much like to talk with Lady Lucas and perhaps Mrs. Purvis. But you know, Miss Lucas, that my health so rarely permits me to travel far. I find myself quite ill recently, since last winter, but I think that my children will certainly join you, even if I cannot."

"Of course, Mrs. Bennet. I sincerely hope that your health allows you to attend. But perhaps I might suggest that you will be better should you travel in the fresh air?"

Mrs. Bennet seemed to ponder this for a moment and then said, "That may work, Miss Lucas. But my daughter," she gestured at Elizabeth, "will certainly not benefit from any further exposure to the sunlight."

Elizabeth laughed melodically and responded to her dear Mama, "Mama, I am sure that I will be fine. I was only out there for an hour or so, and for most of that time, Charlotte and I were in the shade of the grove."

"La, Lizzy," shouted the boisterous Lydia, "You have been out there a full four hours. I heard you get up at daybreak!"

"Oh! My poor nerves! Lizzy! What will become of you? You traipse around the countryside and in clothes no better than rags! When are you going to realise your position? It is not proper for someone of your position to act the way you do! There will be no suitors for you! You will end an old maid..."

"But, Mama, as you said, I will be a rich old maid."

"It doesn't take away the shame of it, Miss! I do not want to see you lonely and without a husband. I want grandchildren Elizabeth."

"Mama," Elizabeth responded patiently, "I am not even twenty yet. I have plenty of time to find a suitable husband."

"Elizabeth!" Mrs. Bennet sulked, "why do you disobey me? You always do what your father says!"

"Mother, of course I will do your will, I just want some time before I get married. Now, Charlotte, do tell us the rest of the guest list for the party. Are the Philips's to be included?"

Charlotte was acute and perhaps apart from Mr. Bennet was the only other person to have noticed that Elizabeth had changed since her return, so having sensed Elizabeth's discomfort at this subject, decided to change it to the party. "Well, I believe that the James's are attending and I think Miss King said she would be..."

Mr. Bennet smirked and carried on walking towards his billiard room. He had stopped to listen to the conversation that the ladies were participating in. His Lizzy had always stood up against the silly requests of his wife and maintained that she would respect and love her husband. How could he be surprised though, when she had such an example in front of her everyday of a couple who had married very young and now regretted it. He had fallen for her beauty and substantial fortune and she simply accepted the first offer that came her way. He needed to marry. He was the second of two sons, but his elder brother had died before his father had, leaving himself, Mr. Thomas Bennet, as the heir to Netherfield.

The Bennets had occupied the estate of Netherfield for many generations. The house, a very large and handsome house with many beautiful acres of land surrounding it, had been passed from male Bennet to male Bennet since it had been built in the 1600's. The deeds of the estate stated that the nearest living male relation to the current owner would inherit the property. This meant that should there be no son born, a very distant cousin would become the master of this beautiful estate. Thankfully for Mr. Thomas Bennet Esq. As well as his four attractive daughters, he had a male heir.

Chapter 2

Posted on Friday, 5 August 2005

Master Andrew Bennet was only eleven years old but he was showing signs of becoming the man his father wished him to be. He had not the intelligence of his eldest sister, but he was by no means deficient in sense and good judgement. He was a handsome child, 'a pleasure to look at' according to his mother, and he was kind and good-tempered.

He was not spoiled, as you might expect the only son of a master of a large estate to be. Mr. Bennet was grateful he had a son, but nothing more. He obviously had not experienced the worry of some poorer families with no male heirs, and he was glad of it. So, Andrew was treated like all their other children were.

It seemed to Mr. Bennet, however, that Andrew was in want of a tutor for his education and general upbringing. Elizabeth had already outgrown a governess and Mary and Kitty were the ones who had lessons at present. The need of a governess for daughters was one that was widely acknowledged. Elizabeth had learnt French, German and Latin as well as the sciences and arts with her esteemed governess, Miss Hall. Mr. Bennet believed that like Mrs. Bennet could not have educated her daughters well, he could not have educated Andrew in anything but the running of a large estate. For that reason, Mr. Bennet began to search for a suitable tutor.

Mrs. Bennet was at once adverse to the idea. This may have been because it was something her husband was intent on, and she disliked it when her husband made up his mind about the children without consulting her. Instead though, her argument was that he was far too young to begin lessons and that he should enjoy his childhood as much as possible first.

"Mrs. Bennet, Andrew needs to start learning these things. I started all this when I was eight! Andrew is almost twelve. In eight years, he will be going to Cambridge, like all Bennet heirs have been for many years and before he can go there, he needs a tutor to teach him the necessary things."

"But Mr. Bennet, he is not as mature as you were at that age, I am sure. You had a tutor at nine because you were mature enough to have one. He is simply not as grown up as you were."

"In that case, he needs a tutor even more. He should not be refused a proper education simply because his mother doesn't want him to grow up at all. Miss Hall came here for Elizabeth when she was eight and Mary started lessons when she was ten. Andrew will not be treated differently any longer."

Mrs. Bennet opened her mouth to protest once more, but Mr. Bennet managed to get words in before her with, "enough, Mrs. Bennet. I have made up my mind."

Mrs. Bennet piped down for a change and left the room muttering about her poor nerves, in search of one of her daughters to preach to since her husband would not listen to her. Mr. Bennet had married her when she was only twenty and was the catch of London with her good looks, connections and the ten thousand pound fortune that she had recently inherited from a distant uncle of some sort that no-one had cared about until he was on his death bed when all of a sudden he was ransacked with visitors enquiring about his health.

The first proposal the then Miss Verne received was one from Mr. Bennet and as throughout her life, the only aim that she had was of marriage, when a respectable man with a large estate and plenty of money came along. He had been blinded by beauty and she by the prospect of marriage. After the initial few months of happy marriage, the couple had grown further and further into a state of forced contentment. He was too intelligent for her and all his wit was lost on her little mind making him regret that he had not married a woman who could have been a companion to him.

Mr. Bennet then set about finding a tutor for his son. He began by perusing the papers, seeing if anyone was seeking a position but had no luck. There were a few in there, but none of them seemed the type of tutor that he was looking for. He wanted a man who knew enough about the life of the gentry but could still teach all the essential subjects he should know.

After the papers failed, Mr. Bennet decided that he would write to a friend he kept in regular correspondence with and had done since his days at Cambridge, Lord Matlock. He had known Henry (as he was called by friends) for many, many years and since they had both now got their own families to deal with, they didn't meet save from the occasional appearance in town yet maintained a friendship through letters. Mr. Bennet knew that Henry had two sons both of who were in their twenties and had already been to Cambridge like their father. So he wrote a letter to his friend, seeking his advice on the subject of a tutor.

Sitting with his family for dinner a few days later, he informed them of his intentions with regards to Andrew's education. The reactions of each member of his family were very true to their characters. Mrs. Bennet sighed and muttered something about her poor nerves and about he would come to regret this decision. Andrew himself was certain that whatever his papa thought best for him would be fine, Elizabeth expressed her happiness that there would be an addition to the household and that Andrew would have an opportunity to become as learned as she had, Mary enquired as to whether the lessons would take place in the library and if so, would this affect her ability to roam freely and get books when ever she wanted, Kitty smiled and said, "That's nice," in the generally care-free approach she had with everything and Lydia was too busy trying to get the attention back on her to pay any real notice to the news.

"So who will my tutor be then papa?" His son questioned in the calm way that he always spoke.

"That has yet to be decided, son. I have written to a friend of mine, Henry or Lord Matlock as he is known these days. He has two sons, both of whom have gone off to Cambridge now and I thought that he may be most useful in helping me find a tutor."

"A Lord Matlock did you say?" his eldest daughter questioned.

"Yes. I don't think I have spoken of him before. He is simply a friend from Cambridge who I keep up a brief and casual correspondence with," he watched Elizabeth and couldn't quite make her out as usual and so carried on with, "Why dear, do you know him?"

"I am not sure. A part of me thinks I have met him. I have certainly heard his name in passing but I just cannot recall where from."

Elizabeth sat pondering this point for a good deal more time than her father would have expected her to. When questioned why it concerned her so much, she obviously bent the truth by saying that it simply annoyed her when she didn't remember things.

The discussion was dropped a few moments later after Elizabeth professed that it didn't matter anyway. They went on to discuss such things that kept Mrs. Bennet happy such as parties, young men, balls and lace.

That evening, Mr. Bennet and his favourite daughter could be found battling in the library as fiercely as soldiers in France. But they were not arguing about possession of land or any such thing. But of the works of Shakespeare.

"Lizzy, I must tell you that Hamlet is with out a doubt the best of Mr. Shakespeare's plays. There is no question about it! The best characters, the best quotations and it simply has the best of all the plots!"

Elizabeth laughed sportingly at her father, "Dear papa, I cannot agree with you. The only character in Hamlet that I like is Horatio. He is the loyalist person ever written, and yet he is not in the play often enough! Were he in it more then maybe I would be inclined to agree with you but for my part, The Merchant of Venice is my favourite."

Mr. Bennet had always encouraged his children to display their opinions and was eager to hear Elizabeth's, even if he did not completely agree with them, "And why is that one your favourite?"

"This one is the one with the best lines, characters and plot, father. It is without a doubt the best of his plays because it is quite simple. He doesn't attempt to put too much detail or storyline into the plot but he gives us enough. And thus, avoiding the compulsion that some writers have for trying to make things too complicated, he produces what I believe to be the best of all his plays."

Elizabeth had always been wonderful at expressing herself and her opinions. When she thought something about something, she could always explain why coherently and persuasively. "That may all be so, Lizzy but without Hamlet we would not have the fantastic quote, "Methinks the lady doth protest too much!"

"I suppose you are right about that, but you will not persuade me to change my mind. At least we are both in agreement that Romeo and Juliet is our least favourite."

"We are."

Mr. Bennet showed no signs of continuing so Elizabeth carried on for him. "That play's only merit is the author. Sometimes though, I wonder if the genius that is William Shakespeare actually wrote that one. The plot is simply far too unbelievable. I do not find it possible that two people would get married after knowing each other for little more than a day and after having spent no more than an hour in each other's company. How can such feelings of love be decided in such a short space of time? I do not understand it!"

"I do not wish to sound patronising, but maybe it is because you are too young. At your age, you cannot know what it is like to have been in love and to feel secure in it. Even at my age, I do not believe that I have felt the thing that is true love. Perhaps Romeo and Juliet just knew that they were right for each other. I don't think you can entirely dismiss the idea of love at first sight if you haven't been in love."

Elizabeth answered bluntly, "Yes father. You are right. I am too young to understand."

"I did not mean it like that my dear. I just meant that you have not been in the world long enough to rule out the idea of love at first sight."

"Perhaps," she stated frankly. "If you will excuse me, father, I am going to retire to bed now."

"Have a good nights sleep, my dear."

She left the room, carrying one of the two copies of Richard III that they owned and with the promise that she would read it so they could discuss it in more detail the next day. As she closed the door gently, her father decided that he would make it his purpose to understand what it was that was troubling his daughter recently.

Chapter 3

Posted on Wednesday, 17 August 2005

Matlock Estate,
Derbyshire,
10th April 1809

Dear Thomas,

My old friend! It is always wonderful to hear from a man whom I know so well and yet haven't seen since our days in London as the "eligible, young men". I am glad to hear that you are keeping well and that all your family is as healthy as usual. Again, don't you find it rather strange that we, both of us, know each other's families so well and yet neither of us has met each others children? I most certainly do, and my invitation which has been open to you for so many years of visiting us in Matlock, still remains exactly so.

I was glad to read that you are looking for a tutor for your son. I feel very much that sons, especially the eldest one should be taught by a gentleman other than his father, all the things that he should know for university and for life. My two sons, Edward and Richard have both been to Cambridge already, Richard finished there last year. Their tutor, a Mr. Howells was most brilliant, but unfortunately, come September, he will be retiring, as his final pupil, a son of a friend of my wife's will be leaving home to attend Oxford. Mr. Howells is nearing sixty-five now, so is of an age where he is finding some physical things most difficult, and would have to retire in a year or so, even if we did manage to persuade him to help with your son, you would be looking for another tutor in a year or so.

However, I do believe that I am able to help you. I know a young man who would be perfect for your son. He was raised to a stature as wealthy as my own, but unfortunately, with the death of his father not seven months ago, he rushed from London to find that he was left in terribly difficult circumstances, with no income or estate at all. Mr. George Winters is his name and he is most certainly not of the idle kind. He is determined to make his own way in the world, hence his not accepting any of my "charity". He is exactly the right sort of man for the job. He is young, only four and twenty, but he left Cambridge at the same time as my son Richard and he is most intelligent and very, very well taught. He understands exactly what will be needed for your son, having been educated with almost identical prospects as him.

So, I leave the decision down to you, my friend. Obviously, you may feel at some point that he is not helping your son but I know l doubt that that will happen at all, because although he is young, he is very mature and his mother's death when he was a child and his father's recent death he is not like the men that we were at his age, However that may be, you can be assured that I vouch for him one hundred percent and I know that he will help your son greatly.

In other news, my eldest son and heir, Edward, now almost six and twenty got married to a delightful young woman, Lady Judith Bingley and...

Mr. Bennet was sitting in his favourite place in his house once again as he read the missive from his friend, the Earl of Matlock. He had laughed as he read the part about visiting Matlock. Every year he had been asked, and every year he had gracefully declined with some excuse as to other visitors at Netherfield, or a few years ago he had used the excuse of his children being too young to travel such distances. But now that his youngest was eleven and his eldest was in marriageable age, he couldn't use that as a reason any longer. After all, he had always wanted to see the friend he kept in such close correspondence with, he just didn't want to travel the distance to Derbyshire for a few short days. "It could be quite lovely," he reasoned to himself, "maybe for a week in the summer. Elizabeth would like to go to the Peaks, Mary was bound to find some amusement in the massive library of the Matlock's, Kitty was happy just to go on a holiday somewhere, Lydia, being the youngest daughter was bound to get the most attention, and young Andrew would be able to see the ways of the world in other places and practise being an excellent guest. And obviously, Mrs. Bennet would be delighted to go somewhere where there were different men for her daughter to catch the eye of. And he, he would get to see a great friend once more.

It was decided then. He would write to his friend, asking when he could take up his offer of a visit. He almost began writing his letter then, taking a sheet of paper out, picking up his quill and soaking it into the deep hole of thick ink, before realising that he hadn't thought about the main point of his friend's letter. The tutor. Mr. George Winters sounded very good for the job. Mr. Bennet's only concern was that he was too young and most definitely inexperienced for the role. He decided to call in his daughter. Elizabeth was always able to help when he needed it most.

"What do you think then, Lizzy?" He asked when Mr. Simmons, the Butler had fetched her for him.

"I think that he would be good for the job, Papa. You and Lord Matlock obviously have a strong relationship, and as long as you believe you trust his good judgement, then I don't see why Mr. Winters would be just right."

"But however so that may be, this man is very young. He also has never had any experience in this sort of situation either," Mr. Bennet stated eager to continue conversation. He and his daughter had not had the rapport that they usually had since the episode the previous week when he had obviously insulted her with his comment about her age affecting her understanding of love.

"And yet, Lord Matlock makes it as clear as possible that this man would not make a huge fuss should you wish to find someone else. Look," she pointed to the section of the letter that read, Obviously, you may feel at some point that he is not helping your son but I know l doubt that that will happen at all and continued with, "Can't you see what he means? He is trying to assure you that Mr. Winters wouldn't mind being dismissed without trying to sound as if he expects it or trying to make it seem like you would need to do so."

Mr. Bennet smiled at his daughter's intuition. "I did not read it in that way. But now you put it like that, it makes a great deal of sense. But, do you not think that a man such as this, one who until recently was wealthy and had everything he ever wanted wouldn't be able to cope with the big drop in eminence which he will receive?"

"Father, you seem determined not to accept this man and yet he is the best man whom you have found so far." Elizabeth sighed and sat in the big maroon coloured armchair that sat opposite to the mantelpiece that her father was staring at.

Mr. Bennet sighed as well. "I know I am being particular. Perhaps too much so, but I truly need to ensure that he is the right man for the responsibility of looking after Andrew. It is important to me."

"Then I have a solution for you. Write him a letter via your friend stating your thoughts on the matter and the possible problems that you have and then offer him a trial period of two or three weeks and see how it all goes."

The letter was written and sent along with the next letter that Mr. Bennet sent to the Earl. It was nearing the end of April and weather was getting better daily. The spring was almost over and the next day would bring the party at the Lucases. Mrs. Bennet had decided eventually that she would grace the party with her presence. Mr. Bennet of course was going to attend. His youngest daughter was getting increasingly like her jumpy and unpredictable mother. She needed closer surveillance.

The Bennets, as usual, being the highest family in the hierarchy in the neighbourhood and also due to Mrs. Bennet's unnecessarily long toilette, were the last people to arrive at the party. People were already dancing along with the three piece orchestra that Sir William had hired especially for the party. Almost all the neighbourhood were there: the Gouldings, the Purvis', the Longs, the Philips's and a rather large mass of red coats had also turned up.

There had been rumours of a regiment coming to Meryton at the Bennet household, but Elizabeth, though intrigued (it would prove further opportunity to study characters) was not particularly excited by the rumours. She had far more important things on her mind. Only Mary was old enough to be at all affected by the news and she had the wrong type of disposition to be animated by red coats. And besides, as Mrs. Bennet said, soldiers were far from fitting husbands for girls of their rank.

"Elizabeth!" Charlotte cried ever so elegantly. "I'm so pleased you and your family could come," she turned to Mr. and Mrs. Bennet, curtsied and continued with, "Mr. Bennet, Mrs. Bennet. Lovely to see you once again. Thank you for coming." After Elizabeth's parents had returned the greetings and moved on to speak to Sir William and Charlotte had welcomed all of Elizabeth's siblings, Andrew had gone to talk with Mrs. Younge's nephew, Lydia and Kitty had followed their mother and Mary had sat in the corner with a book, Miss Bennet and Miss Lucas were able to speak together once more.

They both began by relating their latest news. Elizabeth told about her father's search for a tutor for Andrew and of her mother's many tantrums on the subject and Charlotte related the news that her cousin, a Mr. Collins was coming for a visit in a month. Almost as soon as she had finished talking, they were interrupted by the Colonel of the regiment, Colonel Chamberlain requesting the honour of having Miss Bennet's hand for the next two dances.

Usually, Miss Bennet would have declined. Her mother disliked her dancing with people whom were not eligible enough for her and in the end, and so Elizabeth would have preferred not to dance at all just to save herself the haranguing of her mother after they got into the carriage. This time though, she agreed. It had been months since she had last been able to dance. Though Chamberlain was far from as handsome or agreeable than the person who's arms she had last been in, he was a pleasant enough man with whom to spend a half hour with.

Elizabeth danced with two other young men, after she had finished with the Colonel. She had a dance with the eldest Lucas son, William, a seventeen year old boy who was definitely boorish and far from interesting, but it seemed polite, and she was enjoying the feeling of dancing in the country once more. It was far more easy that in town, where hundreds of eyes were watching you like hawks, trying to spot you making a mistake so they had a new reason to gossip. But the company certainly wasn't as enjoyable. The other man she stood up with was Mr. Daniels, the distant relative of the second family of the neighbourhood, the James's. He was very much like the Colonel: jovial, happy and they did not run out of topics of which to converse about.

The evening had been a success. The food had been good, the hosts most obliging and perhaps best of all, the guest list had been planned so well that the number of ladies present didn't outnumber the number of men, which made female half of the party happy at least. The Bennets stayed quite late and bid their farewells second to last. Mrs. Bennet had been exhausted by all the nattering she had done with the other ladies, meaning that Elizabeth was saved any reproach she might have received had they left earlier.

The next morning at breakfast, it was announced to the family that they would be expecting a new arrival at the household. That very morning, Mr. Bennet had received a letter in confirmation and praise of the trial period suggested by Elizabeth for the tutor from both the Earl and the tutor himself. They all had known that their father had been in the process of finding the tutor, so they awaited the arrival of Mr. George Winters with intrigue and interest.

Chapter 4

Posted on Wednesday, 24 August 2005

The Earl of Matlock sat as he did every morning after breakfast with his much loved family. He was in his study dealing with the correspondences and business that had built up since the previous afternoon. He would spend all morning sorting though all the things that had to be done so that he could spend the afternoon and evening with his family.

His butler knocked on the door, was admitted and gave him his letters for the day. The pile was huge. A variety of different styled letters for a man with such variety in his life. There were reports from his steward on the welfare of all the tenants, letters from family members updating him with news, letters from his partners in London advising him this and that and what not and there were letters from people he didn't even know. But the letter that he most wanted to read was at the top of the pile of letters. "Ah! Thomas! I always could rely on you for a quick reply!"

Later in the day, after he had finished talking to his steward and dealt with the things that must be dealt with, he was out walking the grounds in search for a young man for who he had some excellent news. He spotted Mr. Winters standing by one of the many little lakes and ponds that he had in his park. From where the Earl was standing, it looked as if he was contemplating drowning himself but luckily, that was just his imagination running wild once more. He looked at the young man in front of him with sympathy. This man had lost his father, his fortune, his friends and he was about to lose his family. And yet he was unbelievably strong. Stubbornness might be another word for what quality he had that was keeping him going, but what ever it was, the Earl admired him. His family's lawyers were searching and searching for some way that a mistake could have been found in the document which meant that he didn't inherit his own father's estate, but the man was running out of money and there was only a certain amount of time before his pride was going to ask the Earl to stop helping him financially.

"I have been looking for you!" He called to the man who had been so lost in his own dreams that he hadn't seen Lord Matlock standing not one hundred yards away from him. "I have wonderful news for you, my boy!"

The young man looked towards the Earl. His handsome face still showed signs of being lost in a dream, a fantasy of an age bygone. But the kinetic part of his brain was obviously back in this garden, despite where the other part was, as he began walking slowly but surely over to the man to whom he owed his last five hundred or so meals.

"Did you say that you had good news? I couldn't quite hear," he replied seriously, as recent months had often caused him to be.

"Yes, I did."

The face of the young man didn't change as faces usually change when they know that they are about to hear wonderful news. The Earl wasn't surprised. This man had been so used to bad news of late that he hardly knew how to imagine that there might be some sort of news that might make him happier.

"What does it relate to?" He asked skeptically. He doubted that it was going to be the re-installation of himself as master of his own home, or the reunion with a certain la...

"It related to your position as a tutor with a young boy."

"Oh ... that is good news," he replied.

"Have you changed your mind about wanting to get into this profession? I would understand if you had and must remind you that the offer to remain here is still completely open, as it always was and will be."

He paused for a moment before looking at the older man sincerely, a look that was directed more at his heart that at his eyes. "I thank you sir, but you must understand my eagerness to do something for myself. At least when ... before, I could remain active and help my father in the running of his estate and tenants and such, meaning I wasn't idle in the way that a lot of eldest sons of big estates are. But now that I have nothing, I must work to get something. I cannot rely on your generosity any longer."

"I understand. Your father would have done the same. He would be very proud of you."

"Proud of me?" He replied with an ironic laugh. He spoke in anger, and yet his voice was not raised, making it harsher somehow as he continued, "Sir, with all respect to my late father, who I had always admired and looked up to, why did he leave it all to that scoundrel? All my life, I looked up to him as a son should look up to his father, I do everything he commands, and I ... I love him. And everyday he would tell me how pleased he was with my progress and how he was sure I would make an excellent master to the estate. And yet, I end up with nothing. Now, forgive me if I sound selfish and greedy because I do not mean to, but he could have told me what he intended to do! I would not have objected had I only known the prospects that lay before me. I wouldn't have got myself caught up in this mess! I would have got a profession! Good God, I was going to propose to her!"

"Wait!" The Earl interrupted, "propose to whom?"

"It doesn't matter. It doesn't signify anything any longer. She was my equal and now I would only rank high enough to be her butler."

"You know that the lawyers are doing everything they can to see what happened. There had to be a mistake in the will. Just have a little faith in your father."

"And you know very well that nothing will come of it. My father's solicitor was there when he made the changes! And it was in the presence of about seven reliable witnesses. I am resigned to my fate! At least I have managed to find some sort of profession to which I can enter now. And at least you have connections well enough to establish poor George Winters as a tutor."

"Shall we sit?" The two men walked side by side over to a bench that was a further two hundred yards along the picturesque stone pathway. The spring being nearly over meant that the grass was beautifully and lusciously green. The gardens, full of flowers which extended down a slight slope onto the banks of a lake, were very well manicured.

"I had a letter this morning from my good friend Thomas who lives in Hertfordshire, close to the border with Bedfordshire. He wrote to me last week telling me of his predicament in finding a tutor for his son, Andrew who is eleven I believe. He has other children, girls I think. Yes, they must be, for Andrew is his youngest, but also his only heir. So far, Andrew can read and write in English, French and Latin, and has knowledge of Geography, History and the Sciences, so I believe you would only have to expand a little with regards the actual teaching of him. What he truly needs, is a tutor who can teach him more of the ways of the country, the town and the things that are expected of a man who will get an inheritance such as his.

"My friend has an income of around eight or nine thousand a year I think. His daughters have good dowries between ten and twenty thousand pounds each, and will all marry well. His estate is one that has been in the family for years and they are the sort of family who reside in the country in peace and contentment. He has only been married twenty years, so his eldest child couldn't be more than nineteen.

"Anyway, I wrote to him, informing him of my friend, a Mr. George Winters who I thought would fit into the role perfectly. I told him a little about your circumstances, enough for him to realise that you would be an ideal person to fill in the space. He replied this morning, telling me that he trusted my judgement very much but because you have not done something like this before, he suggested a trial period of three weeks to see if you would be suitable for the position."

The man's face had brightened slightly from the dismal look it had had on it only a few minutes beforehand. As long as he could prove himself to this man, he would have a source of income, place to live and food to eat as well. "Thank you," he said simply. "Thank you for helping me do what I need to do."

"I have written the letter of acceptance on behalf of you. All that needs to be done is for you to give your permission for me to send it. Thomas suggests that you come as soon as you can. So I said that you would be there on Monday."

"It's Saturday today! There is so much to be done," he paused and then said hurriedly, "Will you speak with..."

"Don't you think it would be better coming from your own lips?"

He sighed and got up off the bench, "I don't think I will be able to tell her."

Mr. Bennet closed the door of his library hide-away. It was Sunday afternoon and Mr. Winters was due to arrive in the evening of the next day. He had to find his wife to ask her to designate a space in which Andrew could learn, and also find a room for Mr. Winters to use. He wanted to give him a room which was pleasant and yet not overly grand. Mr. Winters had to know that whilst he might have been treated like a King everywhere else he went, now that his rank had been brought down substantially, he had to realise it. At the same time, he was going to be the highest ranked person employed by Mr. Bennet and that had to show.

"Mrs. Bennet? Mrs. Bennet? Hill, have you seen my wife?"

"I believe she's walkin' with the children in the park, sir."

Mr. Bennet thanked the housekeeper and went out to see his wife, covered heavily from the non-existent sun with an extravagant parasol which had probably cost half of his annual income. She was surrounded by her daughters on all sides. Elizabeth and Kitty were walking slightly to one side chatting quietly, Mary was walking behind her, a book in her hand and simply looking at the book and using the feet in front of her as eyes and Lydia was right next to her, so that she could be fawned on by her mother whenever Mrs. Bennet stopped complaining for longer than three seconds. Andrew was around the corner, his pleasant features laughing as he played with the game of hoopla that Lydia had left set up. "I got it!" he cried to his mother, who ignored him, as "the beatings of her heart" were obviously too loud for her to hear her son. Mr. Bennet saw Elizabeth rescue him from dejected sadness as she said, "Well done, Andrew! That was a wonderful shot!" Andrew smiled from the attention of his elder sister, as little boys are apt to do and he went back to his game.

"Mrs. Bennet!" Her husband called out to her. He gave up and walked towards her. As he approached and she and her entourage stopped walking, he asked, "Which room is Mr. Winters going to be in?"

"I thought I'd put him in the green room, my dear."

"Mrs. Bennet, don't you think that that is just a little bit over-elaborate for a tutor who may not be staying more than three weeks here?"

"But it has a wonderful view of the grounds!" She protested vehemently.

"My dear," he said in a voice of forced calm, "Mr. Winters is coming to Netherfield with the sole reason of teaching your son. He is not coming to look out of windows idly." He paused for a moment. He then said to his daughters. "If you'll excuse us, my dears," and took the arm of his protesting wife and lead her to a different area of the lawn. "You obviously have a plan, Mrs. Bennet. Would you mind sharing it?"

"Well," she said excitedly. "I thought that perhaps we would want to give Mr. Winters the best of stays in our house. After all, he is gentry really, and say in a year or so, he has got his estate back, then he might consider marrying one of our daughters. You said that he used to be as wealthy, if not wealthier than us! What a fine thing for our daughters!"

Mr. Bennet took a deep breath and replied, "Sometimes, Mrs. Bennet, you astonish me. No such thing is going to happen. Please will you place Mr. Winters in the blue room?"

"But..."

"That is final."

The sun was only just rising above the crest of the hill on which the Matlock estate hid behind. The only people awake in that household at this early hour of four in the morning was the man who was going to Hertfordshire, the man who was driving him, and the man who was bidding farewell.

"Have a safe journey, my lad. Remember, if anything should go wrong, if you need anything, anything at all, just write. We'll always be here for you."

"Thank you, sir. For everything you have done."

The carriage was just pulling away as the Earl shouted to him, "And tell Bennet that July would be the best time. He'll know what I mean."

"Bennet?" He yelled back.

"You're employer," he heard faintly, "Thomas Bennet."

He looked forward in the carriage in shock. Bennet? Mr. Bennet? He had thought the Earl had meant a Mr. Thomas by always naming his friend Thomas. He tried to breathe and calm himself. After all, there must have been loads of Bennets in Hertfordshire. How could he be sure that this Thomas Bennet wasn't her father? He would just have to wait and see.

Chapter 5

Posted on Thursday, 15 September 2005

The lavishly decorated ballroom was abuzz with excitement. All the colours known to man waltzed and sparkled around this room, from the rich and deep reds of the ceiling, the gold and silver ornaments which dazzled in the light of the gigantic chandelier, the dark blues and blacks of the clothing of the gentlemen to the whites, purples, oranges and greens of the elegant gowns upon the bodies of the most admired women in the ton. This was no easy, free country frolic: the richest, the most powerful and the most beautiful were the only invited.

Elizabeth Bennet was fortunate to possess beauty, connections and riches. Her dowry of forty thousand pounds was enough to attract any man, but that she have the other two as well, well it was enough to put her near the top of any list of competition a matchmaking might have.

As usual, gossip made its way around quickly in the ton. Elizabeth had scarcely been in town for a fortnight before everything was known about her. She was the daughter of a rich member of the gentry from Hertfordshire, a man who was well known to quite a few of the married men from the days when they were the eligible ones in London. Her father had a wonderful nine thousand a year, enough to give Elizabeth and her three younger sisters' dowries of twenty thousand pounds each. But Elizabeth was also an heiress. She was set to inherit another twenty thousand pounds in the event of her marriage, a country estate in Cheshire and a townhouse from her uncle and aunt, Lord and Lady Douglas who were childless.

Lord Douglas hadn't always been an only child. His older sister, Maria had died in a carriage accident when she was only seventeen. This meant that eight years ago, when he and his wife, Annabel were eight and thirty and they remained childless still, Lord Douglas had no choice but to write his will and leave his estates to someone on his wife's side of the family.

They didn't mind though. It was expected of them to leave it to Andrew, the three-year-old son of his sister-in-law but they didn't. Andrew was already going to inherit an estate and income and besides, the legalities of their estate meant that it was essential to leave it to a male but that they could leave it to whoever they chose.

They chose Elizabeth. She was their favourite niece by far and the fact that she was the eldest niece was useful as an excuse. Elizabeth hadn't been told about it until about three months before her visit to her Aunt and Uncle and the reason that she had gone to see them was to be introduced to the London society as the heiress of the Douglas legacy and also because she was a rich young woman in her own right.

All this was known about her before she had even stepped a foot into the ball held at the London townhouse of the 6th Duke of Devonshire, William Cavendish whose father, the 5th Duke had only recently died. That this Duke was found of parties was undeniable and even before he was instated, he had thrown the most extravagant balls around. He was unmarried, but at one and twenty was always being used in little schemes by the mothers of unmarried girls who were trying to allure the man and tempt him into marrying their daughter.

They knew who she was. She walked in on the arm of her prestigious Uncle Douglas and prior to her having spent twenty seconds in the ball, she was declared the most beautiful woman in the room in the minds of all the young men. She of course was no such thing. There were at least fifteen young ladies in the room who were five times more beautiful than was. Had these gallant young men not known the fortune that she carried, they would not have dismiss her, for she was not ugly, but another young lady would catch their eye within the next minute. After all, all the young ladies in the ball were agreeable to look at; they were bred in such a way. There was hardly such a thing as an unattractive woman these days but what gave them their additional allure were there dowries, their connections and the advantages that they would bring into a marriage.

There was one man who didn't know who she was. He had only just arrived in town after visiting his family in the north. He saw where everybody's eyes were looking at and he beheld the young woman for what she really was. Nothing out of the ordinary. She was certainly very pretty, but then so were all the girls present. She was very well dressed, but the others were likewise also. She was on the arm of a rich relative but which debutante wasn't? They all had to have a sponsor.

And yet, something about her intrigued him. As she descended gracefully down the entrance staircase and she realised that everyone was looking at her, he detected a sparkle in her eyes that hadn't been there before. Her face lit up and as he paid attention to the way that her jade, green eyes rolled ever so slightly in amusement at the reactions of everyone, he saw the amazing beauty of them. Her eyes were the most attractive and captivating he had ever seen and the intelligence and humour that he recognised hid behind them made him want to know her better.

Her dance card filled up at an incredible pace and he could tell even she was shocked by the scarcity of places left. The first two dances that she undertook brought a huge deal of attention. The Duke, having been the first to greet her was also lucky enough to be the first to secure her hand for a dance. The sighs and the mutterings of the mothers of daughters who were titled were entirely obvious. This girl might have lots of money, but she was Miss Elizabeth Bennet. Not Lady Elizabeth Bennet. The Duke that they had all been so eager to snag for their daughters was gone in a flash.

But, that was the reaction of the guests at the ball every time that Miss Bennet went out to dance. The Duke and Miss Bennet had enjoyed their dance but nothing else had come of it. As she danced with more and more unmarried and eligible men, the sighs of females became even louder. Lord so and so had been this close to proposing until Miss Bennet came along. Mr. what's his name with fifteen thousand a year was practically on his knees. And yet, when Elizabeth was introduced and chatted to the ladies accusing her of stealing their daughters futures away, they were perfectly charming and in every way agreeable.

That was the way of the ton. A country person might wonder why the fashionable and well mannered people of London looked down so disdainfully on the ways of the country folk. These town people claimed to be the polite, well-bred ones and yet they were deceitful, rude, gossiped harshly behind everyone's backs and were most distinctly two faced.

With what must have been an amazing stroke of luck, Elizabeth managed to sneak out of the room completely unnoticed. It was clustered and stuffy in the ballroom and she wanted some air. Another person was already outside on the little terrace hidden by some fashionable silk curtains. It was the man who had been looking at her all night without an ounce of prejudice or care about her wealth or status.

"Excuse me," Elizabeth jumped at the baritone sound of the man who had interrupted her gazing over the balcony.

"I beg your pardon. I did not mean to frighten you." His face was concealed by the shadow of the building as the moon shone above them and this made him slightly alluring and mystical to Elizabeth.

"That is quite alright Mr. umm ... I am sorry; I do not know your name."

"How strange Miss, because I was just about to say how I seem to be at disadvantage to every other man in this ball for I have no idea who you are! They all seemed to recognise you the second you walked in. But the only thing about you that I recognised was the look of annoyance that registered on your face at everyone staring at you!"

Elizabeth laughed a delightful and merry little laugh. "I do hope my disapproval was not too obvious! I would not wish for the Duke to think that I think myself above his wonderful ball!"

"He seemed quite content with you when you two were dancing," the man said in a low voice which seemed to be full of envy. Elizabeth being most astute and like her father, good at telling what people were thinking, picked up on this and said, "Sir, you sound almost jealous!"

"I was jealous of him. He knew who you were and I wished to get acquainted with you."

"Wished," she exclaimed, "meaning that you do not wish to become acquainted with me any more?"

"I have no need to. I am already acquainted with you," he replied simply.

"How can that be when we do not even know anything about each other? We do not even know each other's names!"

The man came out of the shadows dramatically, taking off his hat with a gallant swoosh of the arms, bent on one knee and said, "Fitzwilliam Darcy at your service, madam."

Elizabeth curtsied prettily and replied, "It is lovely to almost make your acquaintance, Mr. Darcy. I am Miss Elizabeth Bennet."

He looked at her and smiled, causing her to pray that he couldn't see her face. Or at least couldn't see the blush that had overcome her face following her seeing his fine mien and handsome face. She looked away slightly before deciding to speak again, "And which part of the country do you come from, Mr. Darcy?"

"I am from Derbyshire."

"Derbyshire!" she cried, "I simply adore Derbyshire. I have not been there since I was a little girl, but I can remember it being one of the most beautiful places I have ever been to and asking my dear papa if we could rebuild our house there!"

Darcy warmed at her exclamation of joy of what was his favourite place in the world too. "I am glad that you take my view of things, madam. I can not imagine living anywhere but Derbyshire."

"How do you bare to come to London then?" she asked, genuinely interested.

"I have to come here frequently as my father wishes me to manage the house in town and the business side of things which must take place in town, as although he has many years left in him yet, he insists that I take on some of the aspects of being head of the family so that it will not come as so much of a shock when he does leave us."

"That seems sensible," she answered.

"It is. And I am happy to do it if it means my father does not have to travel such a great distance so often. As a matter of fact, I was in Derbyshire with my father and sister only three days ago. No doubt that is why I don't know much about your apparent infamous status."

Elizabeth smiled and replied, "It's amazing. I thought I would be just another fish in a really big sea, but everyone has been paying far more attention to me that I ever dreamed of. And at first it was amusing but now it is getting a little tedious and I have only been here for two days. It's too much for a little country girl like me to take!"

"I know what you mean. I think that London would be a lovely place to be in were it not for the people who according to their own opinions make London what it is! What county do you come from then if you are not a city girl?"

"I live in Hertfordshire. So thankfully I didn't have to travel for as long as you did to get to this place."

"I have never been to Hertfordshire other than in passing, so I am unable to discuss whether it is truer than Kent as the garden of England or whether the summers there are more beautiful than in Oxfordshire."

"Don't worry," she laughed. "I'm sure that we will find plenty more things to talk about during the course of our acquaintance."

Darcy looked earnestly at her and then said, "So by that you mean that you think our acquaintance will be a long one do you, Miss Bennet?"

All she did was smile, but her mind said: I do indeed.

Chapter 6

Posted on Monday, 26 September 2005

Mrs. Bennet sighed melodramatically as she looked out of the window at the pouring, heavy rain. Andrew was seated alongside her pretending to be interested in a book which Mary had insisted he read for his "moral development." Mr. Winters had been delayed. The family had been assured that he would be in Netherfield as soon as he could, but the bad weather that they were having in the south was apparently not half as bad as the weather was in the Midlands and so Mr. Winters had had no choice but to stop for a day or two.

The country families strived for interesting things. New arrivals and old acquaintances, marriages and births were the only things that kept the community going. Since the arrival of Andrew's tutor was the next exciting thing to look forward, when it had been put at a hindrance, there was nothing else to do but sit around and wait for some more gossip.

"My dear Mrs. Bennet," her husband said to her as he entered the room where his family was sitting dejectedly and Elizabeth was trying to lighten the mood by playing a lively piece. "I have some news for you. I know how much you like news!"

"Mr. Bennet," she replied exasperatedly. "If it is to say that that odious cousin of yours is getting married, then there is no need for I have already heard it off Mrs. Goulding many a time. Though, I must say, I do not see any reason why he should have proposed to that ever-so plain daughter of hers. She looked quite a fright at the Lucases party last week I must say and if he thinks..."

"My dear," he interrupted, tired of her already, "It is has nothing to do with my cousin at all."

"Oh," she paused for a while and then added, "WELL? Don't keep me in suspense my dear. You are messing with my nerves once again."

"I thought that you may be interested to know that the estate three miles off, Longbourn has been taken by a young bachelor."

"What is his name?" She asked, only relatively interested in finding out.

"He is a Mr. Bingley." He responded simply.

"Bingley?" Elizabeth joined the conversation for the first time, from her piano stool. "I know a man called Mr. Bingley," she continued as she carried on playing absentmindedly and at half the allegro of the piece.

"Lizzy," her mother reprimanded. "Stop daydreaming and tell us about him."

She stopped playing, turned and said, "Well, I am by no means sure that it is the same man, but I met a Mr. Bingley when I was in town in the autumn. He was single at that time, and I remember him mentioning in passing that he had been recently looking at properties which he could buy and then develop further since he did not have the time to get an entire house built."

"I do not see how any of this would interest me, Mr. Bennet. You were just trying to upset my poor nerves and get me excited that there might have been some news in this place," Mrs. Bennet moaned continuously. There was no pleasing her whatsoever.

"So, that means that you do not want me to visit him does it?"

"Well..."

"Oh, that is good then my dear. Because I already have."

"Mr. Bennet! Now we are forced to make an acquaintance with this man. He may be a frightful bore. Or even worse: A poor frightful bore."

Mr. Bennet sighed and left the room. Sometimes he just wanted to give up on his wife. Her silliness was often far too much to endure. He went off to his Library were he saw his youngest daughter and son playing outside with Elizabeth, who was both reading and chatting at the same time. The weather was just starting to clear and the summer was coming back into acknowledgement.

A man and a woman could been seen to be coming down the pathway of the house. The man, even at this distance from Mr. Bennet was obviously a stout and pompous looking man, dressed all in black and carrying a reflective and sombre look upon his face. Elizabeth instantly recognised the features of the woman, for she ran quickly and embraced her good friend Charlotte.

"Elizabeth! Lovely to see you as always!" Charlotte cried. "I would like to introduce you to my cousin, Mr. Collins."

"Mr. Collins," she said in a bemused tone, curtsying at the same time, "It is most wonderful to meet you."

"Cousin, this is Miss Eliza..."

"Miss Bennet," he bowed deeply, ignoring Charlotte's obviously inadequate introduction, "It is most marvellous to meet with such a prodigious person as yourself and I hope, your family. I must say how wonderful I think the grounds and the park are here, it reminds me very much of the home of my patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh. I am quite certain that you have heard of her, for she is of the same noble and fine descent as yourself. I wonder if you know, but she has sixty four windows on her house. Sixty four! Can you imagine such a thing? Well, I suppose you can, living in such an estate as this... but, I wonder, do you know how many windows there are here, Miss Bennet?"

Elizabeth had to bite her tongue so much it felt as if it was going to come off to stop her bursting out in laughter at this ridiculous man. She dared not look at Charlotte in the eye, for fear of making it worse. "Do you know Mr. Collins; I believe that we have sixty five windows at Netherfield. Although, I may have to count them again, for you know how it is with these great houses: I have to check them every week as some more may have been added."

"Absolutely, Miss Bennet. I know exactly what you mean, for Lady Catherine herself complains of the enormous duty that is window counting. It is such a strenuous task for one to undertake. Especially when one has a large number of windows like yourself or her Ladyship."

"I can sympathise with her completely," Elizabeth spoke dramatically, adding on a sigh for effect. "But perhaps you would care to walk with me into the house, so that we can not only inspect the number of windows, but see my father as I am quite certain he would be absolutely devastated at not having his opportunity at meeting you, Mr. Collins."

"Oh, why thank you, Miss Bennet. It would be an honour to meet your father. Come along Cousin, no need to get caught behind!"

Elizabeth escorted Mr. Collins and Charlotte to the front door and to the butler who promised to take care of them whilst she ensured them that the counting of windows had made her a little dizzy and she simply needed some air before continuing and would then join them momentarily.

She walked over to the corner of the property quickly and yet at a very steady and constant pace. She waited until she got to the bushes before she allowed herself to let all the laughter go.

She continued in this way for a few minutes, amused that such a person could be related to the sensible and logical Charlotte Lucas before quieting upon hearing two men in a deep conversation, arriving on horseback. "Bingley," said a man whose voice she recognised very well, "I do not think I can do it. What if this is the house? What if this is the one that I pray it isn't? What on earth am I to do?"

Bingley, the very jovial man as ever replied, "Winters, I am sure that all will turn out for the best. Whatever happens, it was meant to be and lets face it, you would have had to face up to your past sometime soon anyway. If only you weren't so damn stubborn and could accept the charity of other people then there would be no need for all this tutoring nonsense."

"You don't understand, Charles. I cannot live off the support of other people. Whether I have an estate or not, I am my own master and cannot take the pity of other people. I just have to put up with my lot in life and get on with it."

Elizabeth could now see the faces of the two men who were approaching. She clasped her hand over her mouth to stop herself from yelling out in complete shock at the identity of Mr. Winters. Mr. Bingley was the same Mr. Bingley that she had known in London, but Mr. Winters? Well, he was someone she had known in London as well. At least, he was someone she had thought she had known.

"So, on other matters, what do you think of my new property?"

"It is very pleasant, Bingley. It could do with a bit of work, but overall, it is just right for you," he replied as simply as he could, annoyed that Bingley brought up the topic of estates, when he himself was clearly without one.

"I know a lot needs to be done on it. But I simply do not have time to plan and arrange the complete building of a house. This one has the basis of what I need though and I can expand and change things according to my taste."

Winters smiled at his friend's complacency and how simple it was to please him. "I am glad you are happy, Bingley."

They trotted on further up the road, towards the entrance to the park and were then outside of Elizabeth's hearing. She did not even want to hear anymore. She did not know what to think about this man; "Mr. Winters" and she did not even want to hear what he had to say for himself. Mr. Bingley too had gone down in her estimation.

She contemplated what she could do. She saw Bingley leave Mr. Winters at the entrance to the estate, and didn't go in after he did as would have been the polite thing to do. She saw the man with the cart carrying the possession of Mr. Winters who followed a further twenty minutes after him and yet she still did not want to go in. She didn't even say farewell to Charlotte and the buffoon Mr. Collins who left not long after Mr. Winters arrived. She didn't want to talk to anyone and she certainly couldn't face him. He was a completely different man to the one she had known and thought she had known.

After a while longer, what may have been another hour and the darkness of the night was looming very imminently, she thought she had better go in. Her mother would be getting nervous about her whereabouts: she might have been climbing trees again. Mrs. Bennet was still adamant that even though Elizabeth had not climbed a tree since she was thirteen, that her daughter did so whenever Mrs. Bennet was not looking. She very slowly made her way to the door of the house, trying to put off the inevitable meeting for as long as actually possible.

It had to come though. Elizabeth realised this and tried to think of other things. She realised that it wasn't her who should feel awkward. After all, this was her house! She had lived here all her life! It was he who was the visitor! He had already done some much to make her confused and obsessed. How could he still have that power when she was in her own ground?

The whole family was assembled in the drawing room and Elizabeth was informed of this as soon as she re-entered the house. She walked tentatively and yet boldly into her drawing room. She knew what she was facing. Somehow that was reassuring. Had she not known what was coming, she wouldn't have been able to think and would have reacted in the silliest of ways.

As the door opened and his eyes saw her, the recognition was obvious to everyone in the room. It could not be clearer as his mouth formed an "El..." before shutting slightly, and leaving him looking distinctly like a goldfish. The look on his face was a mixture of love, regret, sorrow and pain. He had never felt so confused. His confusion, sorrow and pain were doubled when she spoke in a tone of undeniable condescension and severity, "Mr. Winters I presume? Charmed, I'm sure," and sat down rudely and began a conversation with her father, blanking Mr. Winters and blanking any previous connection with him completely.