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Thomas Bennet sat silently at his desk. Certainly there were duties to which he should be attending; even a relatively small estate such as Longbourn was constantly generating work for its master.

Of course, he had become particularly adept at ignoring all but the most critical over the last two decades.

However, ever since a particularly intense discussion with his second daughter earlier that spring, he was attempting to mend his habits (to varying degrees of success).

“My dear Lizzy,” he thought wistfully, eyes drifting to a letter that he had tucked under the corner of his blotter, hoping to remove it from sight if not his mind.

She had sounded happier in that letter than she had in months but his melancholy had increased with every line.

His favorite daughter was coming home to Longbourn that afternoon, but she was not coming alone.

His favorite daughter was bringing home a man.

Elizabeth’s letter had described the various dinners and outings that she had enjoyed while staying with her Aunt and Uncle Gardiner in London.

Usually he would have been amused by her witty observations of the audience at the opera or the odd young man who had guided them around the botanic gardens.

Her descriptions, however, were peppered with mentions of a certain gentleman from Derbyshire.

In April, Mr. Bennet had comforted his daughter after she had rejected Mr. Darcy’s marriage proposal and then discovered that much of her ill opinion of him was based on misconceptions and misinformation.

He had even encouraged her to give the young man another chance should she ever meet him again.

However, that had been when Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy was merely a signature on a letter and a vague memory of a tall, serious young man standing in the corner of a drawing room.

In truth, Thomas had felt exceedingly virtuous after counseling his daughter and that feeling had buoyed him through the past month.

He felt that he had improved his relationship with his wife, and his two middle daughters had required surprisingly little effort on his part to diminish the worst of their silliness.

Mr. Bennet had to admit to feeling a certain degree of pride in their improvements.

Mary still held what he considered to be an overabundance of enthusiasm for theological tracts but she had expanded her interests to include the memoirs of various missionaries and their experiences with the natives of distant lands.

She had taken to studying his atlas of maps so often that her father now left it out on the side table in his book room so that she might refer to it at her leisure.

Catherine had devoted herself to drawing with a passion that had amazed her father, although he had had to reassure her repeatedly that he really didn’t mind if she used up paper, as long as it was in an honest effort.

The solution had proven remarkably enjoyable for both; each Sunday afternoon, father and daughter would sit together and she would show him her week’s progress in her sketchbook.

Her trust in him had increased apace with his pride in her.

Mr. Bennet’s reveries were interrupted by the sound of loud female noises in the hall.

He frowned. For all the improvements he saw in Mary and Kitty, he had yet to reach Lydia.

To prevent her from following the regiment to Brighton, he had enlisted the help of her mother.

The unfortunate byproduct of that action had been the deterioration of that woman’s relationship with their youngest daughter.

Lydia seemed to regard Mrs. Bennet as some sort of turncoat from her cult of personality.

She alternated between coaxing and lashing out at her mother and had lately taken to spending more and more time visiting her Aunt Phillips in Meryton.

Now that Lieutenant Wickham and the militia were removed from Hertfordshire, Mr. Bennet was not particularly concerned that his youngest could get into any trouble worse than overspending her allowance on lace and ribbons.

He could proclaim any number of rules (and he felt he was becoming better at enforcing them), but nothing seemed to reach Lydia.

The rumble of approaching carriages trickled through his open window with the summer breeze, bringing Thomas back to the present. Sighing heavily, he attempted to put on a happy face before leaving his study.

When Mr. Bennet reached the front door, most of his family already stood outside, waiting for two large coaches to come to a halt.

The first was one which he was moderately familiar with; a modest four-wheeled chaise that the Gardiners rented whenever they traveled beyond London.

Thomas was amused to see his youngest nephew leaning half out of the open window to wave madly at his cousins before being pulled back to safety by his mother .

The Gardiners’ carriage was followed by a larger, closed coach pulled by four matching Cleveland Bays.

There was nothing ostentatious about the vehicle but to a knowledgeable eye it was obviously of superior quality and extremely well-maintained.

Mr. Bennet was intrigued when its owner opened the door himself and hopped down before the footman could do his duty.

Intrigue was succeeded by amusement when the gentleman turned just in time to catch the youngest Gardiner daughter when she launched herself straight into his arms.

Although Elizabeth’s father had not yet convinced himself that he was happy to see Mr. Darcy at Longbourn again, he could not help but be charmed by the man’s easy manner with the children.

Having caught Amelia, Darcy swung her around before setting her gently on the ground, only to turn and bow deeply to her elder sister in the manner of a courtier to a grand lady.

Of course, the moment Rebecca’s foot touched the ground, all pretense was forgotten and she raced her sister to hug their cousins.

Mr. Bennet was forced to divert his attention from the Darcy carriage for a moment when his nephew and namesake, Tommy Gardiner, ran over to greet his uncle. When he finally turned back, it was to see an unknown young lady emerge, followed by Elizabeth.

Longbourn’s master watched as his second eldest went directly to Jane.

When the two sisters clung to each other for many minutes, he was reminded of just how much time they had spent apart since Christmas.

Mr. Bennet was distracted from this train of thought when Mr. Gardiner was finally able to extract himself from his own sister’s fluttering embraces.

The two old friends shook hands, saying little but still managing to express how happy they were to see one another.

“Well, Edward; I’m glad to see that you’ve all arrived safely. Lucky you have two carriages— this is quite a circus that you and Madeleine are traveling with.”

The other man smiled indulgently. “Yes, indeed. We were most appreciative when Mr. Darcy volunteered his carriage—I suppose we might all have fit in one, but it would not have been a particularly comfortable voyage!”

Gardiner had just determined that Mr. Bennet should be reintroduced to that gentleman when Elizabeth finally reached them. Accepting her kiss on his cheek, Bennet squeezed her hand and found himself blinking rapidly to suppress the tears he felt welling up.

“My dear Lizzy… it is good to see you home, daughter.” He stepped back but retained hold of one of her hands. “Well, let us get a look at you. No great changes that I can see… still mud on your petticoat, I see.”

“Oh, Papa,” said Elizabeth, rolling her eyes even as she brushed at her skirt. “Just a bit of dirt—it will come out in the wash. Nothing a good country girl should worry about!” She caught her father’s eye and they both laughed easily.

Mr. Bennet caught the hint of amusement on both of the visitors’ faces just as Elizabeth turned and gestured for them to come nearer.

“Speaking of country girls, may I introduce you to Miss Darcy, Papa? And you remember Mr. Darcy, of course? We have spent much of the coach ride from London speaking about their home county of Derbyshire.”

Thomas made the appropriate noises but all the while he was observing the Darcys carefully. He was about to speak when the high-pitched tone of his wife’s agitated voice reached him.

“Mr. Darcy’s carriage? But why didn’t you come with Mr. Bingley? We’ve all heard that he has returned to Netherfield but it has been three days and none of us have seen him!”

Mr. Bennet was uncertain whether to be diverted or disturbed when Elizabeth squeezed Miss Darcy’s hand and winked.

He decided to be amused because the action seemed to ease the shy girl’s anxiety.

He turned toward his wife without looking at the girl’s brother, feeling that he was not sufficiently calm to endure that gentleman’s unspoken opinion of Fanny’s impropriety.

“Mrs. Bennet, shall we thank Mr. Darcy for his generosity? I cannot imagine that the Bingley carriage could be in any way superior. Now, have you met Miss Darcy?”

After the appropriate greetings were exchanged, Mr. Bennet exerted himself. “I am certain that all of the travelers wish to clean up and rest, but perhaps Mr. Darcy and his sister would like to return to Longbourn this evening and join us for dinner? Mr. Bingley is welcome as well, of course.”

Mrs. Bennet began twittering about soups and fish before the words were out of his mouth.

Even as he noticed Jane’s blush and Elizabeth’s pleased smile, Mr. Bennet watched the two Darcy siblings.

He suspected that the young lady was good-humored beneath her timidity and was gratified to see her brother shield her slightly from the view of the others and speak to her quietly.