Page 1

WHEN MISS ELIZABETH Bennet was eighteen years of age, her mother thought of marrying her off far more often than Elizabeth herself thought of it.

Elizabeth knew that eighteen was quite old enough to be married, of course, and she even indulged in some fanciful daydreams about marriage from time to time, as all young girls are wont to do, but Elizabeth was old enough and practical enough to know that they were not anything but daydreams, unlikely to ever come to pass.

She often daydreamed about some handsome and wealthy man sweeping into her neighborhood, catching sight of her, and being overcome with the desire to have her, at once.

Then she might be whisked off to live in his big house on its massive grounds and to be waited on, hand and foot, by an army of servants.

But Elizabeth could not say that she believed this sort of daydream was even remotely likely to come to pass.

However, though she would never admit it to anyone, when Mr. Charles Bingley took residence at Netherfield, and it was known that he was young, likely only three years older than she was, and that he was much more well off than her own family—though obviously not that well off, for he was letting an estate instead of owning one, so she didn’t know if he did have a big house with massive grounds and an army of servants.

Anyway, when word came, some youthful, girlish part of her leaped in hope that her little daydream might, in fact, prove true.

Of course, Mr. Bingley never looked at anyone except Jane, Elizabeth’s sister.

Elizabeth never begrudged Jane that. She couldn’t.

For one thing, she could see that Mr. Bingley would not really do for her, that he was a much better match for Jane, and for another, Jane was one of her favorite people on earth.

She could not but be overjoyed when Jane was happy.

She took a great deal of pleasure in her sister’s happiness. They were very close.

But once Mr. Bingley was there, and he was often calling upon the Bennet household in the afternoons, along with his sisters, and Jane was occupied in discussions with him more often than she had been, it did mean that Elizabeth was left to her own devices more often than she used to be.

One such afternoon, she remembered that she was seated next to Caroline Bingley, the younger sister of Mr. Bingley, who was only a year older than Elizabeth herself.

“I don’t think I shall ever get married,” said Caroline.

Elizabeth glanced sidelong at her. Caroline was gazing at her brother and Jane, who were engaged in some conversation together, one that was making Jane smile and Mr. Bingley laugh, rather loudly.

He kept throwing back his head in obvious mirth.

Jane was more composed, but Elizabeth could see that she was pleased.

“I can’t think that could be true,” said Elizabeth, who really had not given much thought to Caroline thus far.

She would have said that Caroline did not much like the Bennet family, truthfully.

Though her brother and their sister Louisa, who was older than Charles, always brought Caroline along, she normally seemed quiet and a bit sullen, letting her siblings do all of the talking.

On one occasion, she had loudly declared that they were going to be late for dinner, and it had been obvious both of the elder Bingleys had been embarrassed by their younger sister’s lack of good manners.

“I hope I am wrong,” said Caroline with a sigh. “But I can’t see anything for it. Charles is clearly enamored with your sister, and then she shall wish him to settle here, and we shall never go back to London, so I shall be trapped here, where there is absolutely no one eligible.”

“It’s not so hopeless as that,” said Elizabeth.

“Oh, are there eligible men here? What about you? Do you have any prospects?”

Elizabeth turned to look at Caroline. “Well, I am but eighteen.”

“Yes, and I am but nineteen,” said Caroline. “I think it must be horrible to reach the age of twenty and to remain unmarried.”

“Really and truly?” Elizabeth was surprised.

“You don’t agree?” said Caroline.

“I only think twenty is rather young,” said Elizabeth with a shrug. “One need not rush into such things.”

Caroline considered.

“Besides,” said Elizabeth, “if my sister were to end up with your brother, I am certain she would wish to go to London, at least sometimes. We have family in London, after all, and we all like to visit there. Not my father, true, but he is peculiar in his likes and dislikes.”

“Oh, so is my brother,” said Caroline with a sigh. “Which is why I wish to be married. If I must be subject to the whims of some man or other, it should be a husband. At least a wife has some sway over her husband.”

Elizabeth considered how much sway her own mother had over her father, decided it was very little, and then did not mention that to Caroline. “Yes, I think a wife must.”

Caroline tilted her head to one side. “Well, if Charles had a wife, then someone would have sway over him, would she not? Perhaps if my brother were married, he’d be altogether easier to deal with.”

“Perhaps,” Elizabeth allowed, though she was not sure if there was much to whatever it was Caroline was saying.

“I know what we should do,” said Caroline. “We should try to matchmake my brother and your sister.”

“Matchmake them? Why, they seem to have already matched themselves, don’t you think?” said Elizabeth.

“No.” Caroline shook her head, very serious. “No, they have made no movement towards marriage, none at all.”

“They’ve only known each other for three weeks,” said Elizabeth.

“That’s quite long enough,” said Caroline.

Elizabeth had to admit that while she wished for her sister to be happy, she did not necessarily wish for her sister to move away and spend all of her time in London.

On the other hand, if her sister were living in London, or even in Netherfield, it would mean that Elizabeth could escape to go and visit sometimes, would it not?

And also, Jane’s happiness was paramount. She would be happy with Mr. Bingley, Elizabeth thought, and so, if Elizabeth entered into this conspiracy with Caroline, she would be doing so for the sake of Jane .

“How would we matchmake them?” said Elizabeth to Caroline.

Caroline tapped her lower lip, drawing her eyebrows together, thinking very hard. “That’s a very good question.”

And so, the first match she and Caroline made together was a product of trial and error, mostly. It shouldn’t have truly been so difficult, for—as Elizabeth had pointed out—they had already matched themselves. They were quite clearly in love.

Even so, Caroline and Elizabeth each contrived to get their siblings to walk with them, and then accidentally-on-purpose ran into the other parties and then ran off, leaving Jane and Bingley alone.

They urged family members to make invitations for dinners to the other family, and then, at the dinner table, made pointed comments about marriage and London and various other activities.

It shouldn’t have rightly worked, Elizabeth didn’t think.

But it did.

Who knew, in the end, if Mr. Bingley truly asked for Jane’s hand in marriage due to their interference or not? Elizabeth could not say.

However, it came to pass that their siblings were married .

The clear next step was to get themselves to London, and thus, they set about dropping broad hints to both of the newlyweds to go to London and take both Elizabeth and Caroline along.

In this attempt, however, they were stymied.

Mr. Bingley declared loudly and often that he found the country quite agreeable and often said he was determined to stay here indefinitely.

Jane was shy and had no deep love of London, or perhaps she was pleased by her husband being pleased, but whatever the case, she could not be prevailed upon to take their case up to her husband, which left Caroline quite displeased with everything they had wrought.

Elizabeth thought to herself that she and Caroline were simply two souls who’d been jostled together by chance, two souls who might not have gotten along otherwise.

She thought to herself that neither she nor Caroline had any real skill at either matchmaking or at convincing anyone else to do their bidding.

She decided to detach from it all, not to take the idea of going to London very seriously anymore. It was a lark. It was out of their control. She would only make herself sick if she set her heart on it.

And then, at a public ball in Meryton, they met a man named Mr. Hurst. He danced with Elizabeth, but he spent all his time talking about cards.

He seemed enamored with cards, in fact, ever so enamored with cards.

He danced with a number of other eligible young ladies that night, and the truth of him, as far as Elizabeth could tell, was that Mr. Hurst loved cards more than women and more than dancing, which was something Elizabeth thought was amusing.

“We could match someone to Mr. Hurst,” Caroline said.

It was the following day, and Caroline, Elizabeth, and another girl they knew named Charlotte Lucas, were sitting in the corner of the sitting room at Longbourn.

Louisa, Jane, Mrs. Bennet, the other Bennet sisters, and Charlotte’s mother, Lady Lucas, were all discussing the ball in detail, and they were too busy talking to notice the other three girls with their heads together.

“Mr. Hurst?” said Elizabeth. “I think that might be a difficult task indeed. He does not seem to wish to do anything except play cards.”

“I’d marry a man who only liked to play cards,” said Charlotte with a shrug. “At least we should always have some amusement together, do you not think? We could play together in the evenings after dinner.”

“Yes,” said Caroline. “Just so. I am thinking of Louisa.”

“Your sister?” said Elizabeth. “Truly? He didn’t even dance with her, did he?”

“She was busy dancing when he was free is the only reason,” said Caroline. “Come now, Elizabeth, we know he must be in want of a wife. He is young and single and given to dancing, and he is too preoccupied with his cards to know what is good for him.”

Elizabeth laughed. “But what of poor Louisa? She might wish to be married to someone who finds her interesting, don’t you think?”

“We don’t know he doesn’t find her interesting,” said Caroline.

“Does it really matter?” said Charlotte. “If he proposed, he’s interested enough, I warrant.”

“Quite,” said Caroline, triumphant.

“Well, Charlotte seems to like him well enough,” said Elizabeth, nodding at her friend. “Let’s match him to her.”

Caroline glanced at Charlotte, furrowing her brow in that way she did when she was thinking very deeply. “We shall make a match for Charlotte, we very much shall. But I have spent too much time thinking about Mr. Hurst for Louisa, I’m afraid. I don’t wish to give him up.”

“Give him up?” said Elizabeth, laughing. “Why don’t we match him to you, then?”

Caroline shook her head. “No, no. I shall make a match at some point, yes, but not him.”

“So, you’re foisting him off on your sister?”

“I don’t see it as foisting him off, no.

Louisa could not secure him on her own, and she will be materially better off after the marriage takes place,” said Caroline.

“Mr. Hurst can well afford to be as indolent as he is and to spend all his time at playing cards and going about as he pleases. He has income from an estate he inherited from his maternal grandmother, who was, in fact, a baroness, and he is actually rather skilled at investments, probably something that is related to his skill at cards. He is financially sound, well-connected, and he has a house in Mayfair. He’s perfect. ”

Elizabeth eyed Caroline, and she realized she had never heard Caroline speak with such precise knowledge. She sounded quite sure of herself, and her eyes were bright. There was something about it that made Elizabeth feel a sort of respect for the other girl.

This was what Caroline excelled at, wasn’t it?

This sort of social minutia, understanding what made someone well connected or not.

Elizabeth realized that it was something that had never been taught to her.

Her own mother had little concern for such things, being brash and brazen, elbowing her way into whatever conversation she pleased, no matter the way anyone reacted to her behavior.

Elizabeth had never been taught how to do it or how to navigate society in that way.

She would have liked to say that she simply didn’t care, at least not that much. She knew how to be polite, and she was respectable enough, and she certainly didn’t need to know the pedigree of every single person she came across.

But she also had to admit that she had her pride. If she could improve herself in this way, she would not shun the idea. Caroline could teach her things, perhaps.

“How do you know all that?” Elizabeth asked.

“It’s down to asking the right questions, mostly,” said Caroline. “But I have been doing that for some time, so I have an idea of who people are and how they’re connected already.”

“I see,” said Elizabeth.

“Anyway, I have a plan,” said Caroline. “Louisa married to Mr. Hurst means that she will get better invitations to better balls, especially in London, and that I can come along. And then I can use this to find my own match.”

“Well, then,” said Charlotte. “It sounds like you’ve got it all figured out, haven’t you?”

“No, I need Elizabeth,” said Caroline, turning to her. “You’re much better at talking to people than I am.”

Elizabeth liked the praise.

“You too, Charlotte,” said Caroline. “You must help, too. We can all do it together. We shall be a matchmaking trio!” She grinned at them both.

“I don’t know if I am good at talking to people,” said Elizabeth, thinking this through.

“You are,” said Caroline. “People find you interesting. You’re witty. You’re funny. You have something, Elizabeth, something that we must use to bring Mr. Hurst in.”

Did she have something?

Elizabeth gave Caroline a small smile.

Caroline smiled back.

And that was, perhaps, the true beginning of their friendship. It wasn’t exactly about mutually liking the other, Elizabeth supposed. It was that both of the girls were shrewd enough to see that the other had something they lacked.

It was an alliance, a joining of forces.

Elizabeth and Caroline against the world.

Who could prevail against them when they were aligned?