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As neither of her parents had had siblings and all of her grandparents were dead, Miss Bennet turned to Longbourn’s housekeeper, Mrs. Wagner, and spent more time in the kitchens than most gently born ladies might.

Fortunately, the Wagner family had served the Bennets for generations and that good woman made certain that none of the servants took advantage of the poor motherless girl while she attempted to fulfill the mistresses’ duties.

Some females might have been jealous of a younger brother given so much attention as the estate’s heir, but Jane had always adored her little brother and took on many of the duties of a mother— putting him to bed, reading stories or telling him of their mother when he was home from school.

Thomas was a quiet, thoughtful boy with an underlying wit that became more apparent as he grew older.

He was never loud or boisterous but a twinkle in his eye would often give him away when the object of his joke became aware of it.

Like his father, he had little interest in girls except for his sister and preferred to spend his time with his books, studying dutifully as his tutor directed him.

Although Thomas wrote his sister occasionally, he was no great correspondent and Jane felt the loneliness of her existence at Longbourn where their father sequestered himself in his study or rode out to see to the estate but rarely entertained company.

Perhaps because of this neglect, Jane married young and perhaps unwisely, to a much older gentleman named Collins who, though a gentleman by birth, later showed himself to be one of those perennially disappointed by his allotment in life.

In visiting Longbourn to conduct some business with old Mr. Bennet, Mr. Collins noted the quiet daughter who, it seemed to him, was well-trained in serving the men and running a household.

After confirming that her dowry was adequate to his needs, it took little effort on his part to flatter a girl unused to a man’s attentions into believing herself in love and beloved.

Mr. Bennet was rapidly applied to and, though knowing little of Collins except through their recent business association, assumed that it was the natural course of things—girls grew up and left their father’s home for a husband’s.

Although he had felt a sincere affection for his late wife, he did not consider himself a romantic and his years as a widower had made him more cynical than most. “Happiness in marriage is largely a matter of chance,” he thought to himself before giving the couple his consent.

Thomas Bennet did not meet the fiancé of his beloved sister until he traveled from school to Hertfordshire for the wedding.

Despite his best efforts, he could not like Collins, finding the man condescending and peevish but without the cleverness or even the social standing to support his attitudes.

Even so, Thomas kept his thoughts to himself as his sister appeared happier than he had ever seen her.

He was somewhat concerned when his father mentioned that the business venture with Mr. Collins had failed but the financial loss to the estate was not great and, at fourteen, Thomas was not confident enough to question his parent’s decisions.

The sky was grey and dull on the February morning that Miss Jane Bennet wed Wilberforce Collins.

Although the bride was blissful and the groom appeared pleased with himself, the morning’s festivities were marred when it began to sleet and the groom insisted that the couple depart early for his London house.

Jane was saddened to leave the wedding breakfast so soon after it had begun, particularly after Longbourn’s servants had made such an effort to please their young mistress.

However, after a lifetime’s habit of submitting to her father’s will she never thought to question the demands of her new husband.

After a tight hug and a few tears with her brother and a more formal acknowledgement from her father, Mrs. Jane Collins entered her husband’s carriage and set off for her new life.

Later, Thomas would remember the bleak weather of the day and wonder if the Fates were signaling the future of his sister’s match.

The siblings would not see each other again until their father’s funeral eight years later, although they corresponded with some regularity.

In 1791, Thomas was called away from his studies at Oxford with word that his father had been thrown from a horse and was gravely ill.

For some weeks, the son struggled to comprehend the estate’s ledgers and planting schedules even as the father struggled against death.

For nearly a month, Thomas allowed himself to believe that his father would recover and release him back to his university fellowship until, finally, the doctor and the vicar took the young man aside and forced him to face the facts.

After a long night spent in Longbourn’s study emptying a bottle of brandy, Thomas Bennet rose the next morning and never mentioned his desire to return to Oxford again.

He wrote to his sister, suggesting that if she wished to farewell their father she should journey into Hertfordshire immediately.

Jane arrived two days before their father breathed his last and, though she spent every possible moment by his bedside, he never uttered any final words of affection for her to hear.

Young Mr. Bennet (as he was known thereafter) also wrote a letter to his old university acquaintance, Mr. Edward Gardiner.

Edward’s own father had died two years previously and Thomas dearly hoped that his friend’s experience with the legal intricacies of inheritance, combined with his excellent business sense, could help Bennet from what currently felt like a quicksand of accounting.

After his own father’s passing, Edward Gardiner had assumed control of the family business and tried to look after his sisters as best he could.

His elder sister, Alice, had recently married a young solicitor named Phillips, but Fanny remained at home with increasingly wild expectations of her own prospects.

During one of her sister’s parties, Edward found Fanny flirting with a leering captain in an unoccupied room, oblivious that she was nearly to the point of being compromised.

Although he repeatedly tried to restrain her, her vivacity continued to override her common sense.

Edward Gardiner’s father had been a good man but extremely strict with his household, keeping his daughters carefully guarded.

He had enjoyed Fanny’s exceptional beauty and lively nature at his table but paid little attention to her education or understanding, believing that his rules would keep her safe until he passed the duty on to her husband.

Unwilling to leave Fanny to her own devices while he traveled to Hertfordshire for the Bennet funeral, Edward made the fateful decision to bring her with him.

During the weeks that the Gardiners spent at Longbourn, Fanny appeared even more lively than usual but Edward shrugged off the observation as his sister’s normal spirits made more noticeable by the somber mood of a house in mourning.

He spent much of his time in the study with Bennet, helping his friend work through the estate’s ledgers and paperwork.

It was an assumption that would make him shake his head for many years.

One afternoon, the two gentlemen decided to take a break from business and, noting the time, moved toward the drawing room where the family was accustomed to taking afternoon tea.

Bennet was turning his head to speak to Gardiner as he opened the parlor door but stopped at the stunned look on his friend’s face.

He snapped back to the room and felt his jaw drop.

“Collins!”

“Fanny!”

Wilberforce Collins had become bored while accompanying his wife to her father’s funeral and resentful after learning that he gained little from the deceased man’s will.

He was hoping to soon have an armful of the very lovely Fanny Gardiner, whether or not she was aware of it.

Having discarded his coat, he had begged the young lady to assist him in retying his cravat.

While Fanny’s hands were occupied in unwinding the linen, he amused himself by making a great show of brushing off some crumbs along the neckline of her gown.

Upon the entrance of Bennet and Gardiner, the so-called gentleman ceased his groping but was clearly more irritated at the interruption than embarrassed by his actions.

Fanny’s complete incomprehension of the potential consequences was instantly obvious.

“Eddy! Wilber has invited me to visit him in London!”

At his brother-in-law’s searing look, Collins rapidly extracted himself from the settee and, jerking on his coat, strode out the other door without a word. “Oh! Well,” said Fanny, adjusting her gown to a more ladylike arrangement (though with little change to her demeanor).

“Oh, Fanny,” said Edward, sinking into the nearest chair with his head in his hands.

Just then a maid arrived with the tea, her curiosity aroused by Mr. Collins’ brusque manner passing her in the hall.

Miss Gardiner moved to pour for the gentleman, fussing over the pretty china and generally oblivious to her brother’s consternation.

Edward and Thomas remained silent as they took their first sips and collected their thoughts.

“Perhaps Miss Gardiner might like to rest in her room after tea,” suggested Bennet, doing his best to speak delicately.

“My housekeeper’s niece, Sara, is training to be a lady’s maid and would be happy to assist her.

Perhaps her hair…?” At this point Thomas ran out of words and waved vaguely at his own brown locks, having little experience or interest in ladies’ coiffures except to know that they could take hours to fuss over.