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Fanny did not know how long she lay there, alone and clutching at the dirt, before she found the strength to move.

Scrambling up, she fled back to her home in Meryton.

She refused to let him take pleasure in her misery.

By the time she arrived in town, her clothes had become disheveled, and her hair was unruly from her rushed trip.

All she could think of was how things would be better when she got home.

But upon making it into her mother’s sitting room, she did not find the comfort she longed for.

Mrs. Gardiner was aghast at her daughter’s condition.

Her tangled blonde hair hung loose around her shoulders, and her clothes were rumpled and streaked with dirt.

She thought her daughter had stopped coming home in such a state back when she was six.

“Frances Jane, you are a married woman,” her mother scolded.

“Married, in fact, to the principal landowner of the area. You cannot be going around in such a disheveled state. What are you thinking?”

Her mother’s strident voice was disapproving, crushing the little hope Fanny had left in her heart.

She had been looking for solace but found denouncement.

“Mama, you do not know what has happened!” Fanny cried, her voice trembling as she fought back tears.

“It was horrible, the things Thomas said! I could not stay there.”

Horrified at her daughter’s foolishness, Mrs. Gardiner slammed her teacup down.

“Do not be ridiculous. You are married. That is all there is to it. What does it matter what he said? It does not even matter what he does. You belong there now. Nothing is going to change that.” She belatedly acknowledged to herself that she should have educated her daughter in a few more truths about the world.

However, she did not feel the need to ponder that at that moment or really ever. It was not her problem anymore.

Fanny tried once more to get her mother to understand. “But Mama, you do not know what—”

“What does it matter what your husband says? You will still be Mrs. Bennet, and you will have the best parties in your home and show off all your wealth to my friends.” Picking at a spot of lint on her dress, Mrs. Gardiner wondered where she had gone wrong with her younger daughter.

Her daughter’s wedding was supposed to increase her standing, but that would not happen if she tried to leave her husband.

She would not be able to live with the scandal.

“I do not care about those kinds of things if I do not have love in my life,” Fanny argued. How had she never seen this side of her mother? Did she not care for her feelings on the matter?

“If you want love, get with child and love them. Love in a marriage is a child’s dream. You are sixteen and married. This is your life now.” Turning away from her daughter, she picked up her embroidery project.

Fanny watched numbly as her mother began stitching a beautiful pansy.

Her world was crumbling, and yet her mother was beaming, prattling on about tablecloths and outshining Mrs. Long.

Realizing that she could no longer bear her mother’s ramblings, she silently turned and, without another word, walked out of the house.

She wandered through town in quiet confusion, struggling to make sense of what her life had become.

It pained her to realize that her parents’ house no longer felt like home, yet she did not feel that Longbourn was her home either.

Fanny cut through an alley so that she could wipe at her eyes, but she could not seem to find a handkerchief and she knew she looked a mess. She stopped that when she heard the conversation going on around the corner.

“His conduct was incredibly scandalous. Mrs. Long reported to my mother that he had been hugging her around the waist in the middle of town!” Fanny could not quite identify the voice, but it sounded familiar.

She was always drawn to gossip, so she leaned in closer, keen to hear the tantalizing secret being passed around.

Hopefully, she would hear something that would cheer her up.

“No! I thought Fanny was all that was good. How could she have allowed him such liberties?” Hearing her name almost made Fanny vomit. They were talking about her, and she recognized the second voice as Mrs. Lucas. She was married to the mayor of Meryton, and Fanny thought that they had been close.

“At least he married her. If they had not gotten married, her reputation would be in shambles. It is sad, really. I know she thought him in love with her, but my brother told me he was complaining at the tavern before the wedding.” Rather than collapse, Fanny forced her swaying body to lean on the building behind her for support.

She felt the grain of the wood, its roughness grating against her skin.

It was a pain that she welcomed over the anguish in her heart.

“Fanny is pretty and very sweet. Despite her boasting about having won Thomas Bennet’s affection, I believe she has a good heart. What could he have to complain about?” Fanny quickly decided that Mrs. Lucas may very well be her best friend in town. At least there at been one bright note in her day.

“He apparently did not want to take over Longbourn. He had hopes of staying on at Oxford. His family is forcing him to marry and stay here.” There was an audible gasp that followed, and Fanny, still in shock, wasn’t certain if it came from her or Mrs. Lucas.

“Poor Fanny. The man she loves horribly misled her. I fear it will not be easy for her to endure such a marriage.” Mrs. Lucas’s voice started drifting away as she walked on with whoever she was talking with.

Fanny stayed where she was, fearful of being seen by a town that held such a negative view of her.

When the sounds of town quieted and she felt it was safe, Fanny crept out of the town like a wounded animal, wary and elusive.

Her eyes darted around to ensure she was alone before slipping into the back alleys.

Finally, free of the town, she stood on the path to Longbourn, contemplating her next move.

She refused to return to her mother, and she felt a chill as she realized Longbourn had no welcome either.

Fanny knew she couldn’t just stand there; she had to keep pushing forward, whatever the outcome.

That she was hungry and dirty and just wanted to cry in peace ended up deciding for her.

Bereft and without a home, she trudged back to Longbourn because at least there she could change out of her dirty clothes.

Once she was clean and had eaten something, she went to bed, hiding under the covers like a scared child.

She realized she had no way of correcting the course of her life.

Becoming Mrs. Bennet had been the choice she made, and she understood there was no way out.

The impossibility of her situation weighed heavily on her.

She was heartsick. Taking her meals on a tray in her bedchamber, she attempted to leave her sanctuary as little as possible.

It was several days later that her new grandmother-in-law had gone looking for her after having noticed her despondency.

Sitting at the foot of her rumpled bed, Catherine Bennet tried to speak consolingly to the tearful girl in front of her. “Darling, I know my grandson can be spiteful. I am sorry for whatever hurt he caused.”

“I thought he loved me. He told me he loved me. I did not know anyone could be that cruel.” Fanny sniffed and rubbed at her swollen eyes.

“As you learn more about the world, you will find those who embrace bitterness and prefer cruelty over compassion. It saddens me that my grandson is one such person.” Embracing her, she held her tight and let Fanny cry out her emotions.

They had talked for hours, and Mother Bennet gently assured her that she didn’t think her foolish at all.

She believed Fanny had the heart and mind to do an admirable job running Longbourn.

The warmth of her presence was a balm to Fanny’s heart, instilling in her the belief that she was capable of mastering any skill necessary.

The most important thing, she pointed out, was kindness and compassion and the desire to see everyone well cared for.

She told her she could either prove her grandson right or she could prove him wrong.

That one phrase was something that Fanny latched on to—just because Thomas believed something about her did not mean it was true.

He could act like he knew whatever he wanted to.

That did not change who she was—not if she refused to believe him.

As long as she endeavored to be true to herself and work hard, she could prove him wrong.

Even if he was too stupid to acknowledge it.

In fact, she deemed his refusal to consider other points of view a sign of his true ignorance.

As time passed, she discovered she had a voracious appetite for learning.

She came to understand that the world encouraged girls to learn decorative skills, not those that enriched their minds.

Each day, Mother Bennet imparted her wisdom as she guided her through the intricacies of budgeting and household management.

It had never crossed her mind to consider how expensive things were, apart from having the money to purchase the ribbons and lace she desired.

She learned how much food it took to keep the household fed, what she needed to provide for the servants, and so many other useful things.

Fanny also learned about all the tenants that lived on Longbourn land.

She found out things like how many children they had and what they needed to help them get by when things got tough.

On one such visit, she had another startling revelation.