Page 1 of Heiress of Longbourn (Pride and Prejudice Variations)

Mr. Phillips’s Office

Meryton

24 th July, 1809

A cool breeze lifted the cream-colored linen curtains at the window, carrying in cheerful chatter from further down the street. The sun slanted in, already descending westward, though yet several hours above the horizon and still warming the earth below. The office door was locked, and Bennet took a moment to listen and ensure that there was no one passing by outside in the street or in the corridor, while the solicitor behind the desk waited patiently.

Mr. Thomas Bennet looked at his brother by marriage and said, “You have completed the documents, Phillips?”

Mr. Phillips was short and stout, but his eyes were bright with intelligence, and he said, “I have, of course, though before I present them to you, I must ask you once again if you are absolutely certain about your decision.”

“I am,” Bennet replied quietly, his gaze meeting that of his brother-in-law.

“Do you mind if I ask why? Jane is a lovely young woman, the most handsome lady in the area, and for you to pass her over in favor of Elizabeth is bewildering to me. Of course, I know that Lizzy is your favorite, but it still seems unfair.”

Bennet sighed and clasped his hands in his lap. “It is not that I love Lizzy more than Jane. I adore Jane. But you know as well as I do that my eldest daughter sees the very best in everyone around her. She is far more likely to make poor decisions and to be cheated than Elizabeth, who is quicker than all of her sisters, and also more cynical.”

“Much as you are,” Phillips said drily.

Bennet nodded. “Yes, I am well aware that Elizabeth is most like me of all the children, but this is not a decision based on rational concern, not mere emotion. Elizabeth has already worked with me in overseeing Longbourn and will make an excellent mistress of the estate after I die. I fear that Jane is less adept in such matters, and moreover, she is all too likely to be enticed into a foolish marriage; she is such a pure soul that she assumes those around her are equally pure.”

Phillips considered this at length and then nodded. “I understand. Will you make your decision known to all that Elizabeth will inherit Longbourn?”

Bennet wrinkled his nose and confessed, “Now that point I have not quite decided on. Mrs. Bennet will be indignant with the news, as Jane is her favorite daughter, and I am not certain I wish to cope with that.”

“You do not think Jane will be angry?”

“I do not believe so. She is, as I said, a gentle and virtuous soul, and she and Elizabeth are dear friends.”

“If I may make a suggestion?” Phillips asked hesitantly.

“Of course.”

“I suggest that you allow people to assume that Jane is the heiress, without lying certainly, while also making it known that you have complete control over the disposition of Longbourn, and that your choice will depend somewhat on the heiress’s choice of husband. That is to say, if the world knows that you will not permit a fortune hunter to inherit Longbourn through, they will not pursue any of your daughters with that hope in mind. ”

Bennet considered this and nodded. “That is shrewd advice. Thank you.”

“You are welcome,” Phillips replied as he pulled a pile of documents from a drawer. “At least you are not coping with the entail to the male line, Brother. If it had endured, the situation would have been far more dire for your wife and daughters.”

“That is true enough,” Bennet agreed with a grimace. “I can only be thankful that the entail ended with my generation. Now, where do I sign?”

“If you will just sign here and here and here…”

***

On the Road to Meryton

15 th October, 1811

Evening

“Now Jane,” Mrs. Bennet declared, “It is, of course, inevitable that Mr. Bingley will be most attracted to you as the loveliest of all my daughters, but I do beg you to let the others have a chance with the man. You are an heiress and do not need a rich husband, but your sisters do!”

Elizabeth, seated between her eldest and youngest sisters, suppressed a sigh and said, “Mamma, do you not think that a wealthy son-in-law would be wonderful regardless of whom he marries?”

Mrs. Bennet frowned and said, “Of course it would, but it would be better if Mr. Bingley chooses an undowered daughter.”

Lydia, the youngest of the five Bennet daughters, wrinkled her nose. “But Mamma, we each have a dowry!”

The older woman scoffed and shook her head. “One thousand pounds is nothing, my dear, nothing at all. A mere forty pounds a year in the four percents. No, all of you but Jane are essentially undowered, and while I know that Jane will always want to take care of us, you cannot trust the gentleman she marries to think the same. I do not like the idea of Longbourn going to Mr. Bingley, who would probably see the estate as a mere nothing compared to Netherfield Hall and likely sell it off after your father dies. Oh! The very thought of losing my home...”

“Mamma, Longbourn can be protected through the marriage settlements!” Elizabeth exclaimed with exasperation.

“I know you say that,” Mrs. Bennet said dramatically, “but you do not know men like I do. A tidy little estate like Longbourn? There are many gentlemen who will do anything to trick a young lady into marriage!”

“Do you mean that Jane should not marry anyone at all?” Kitty, the second youngest of the sisters, demanded with rounded eyes.

“Well, of course Jane might marry someday, but one of you must marry first so that there will be two estates to support us, not just one. Which is why you younger girls must do your best to attract Mr. Bingley!”

Elizabeth and Jane glanced at one another, and Lydia said, “Well, I think Mr. Bingley is rather too old for me, and moreover, he is not an officer with a red coat. But perhaps he will fall in love with Lizzy!”

“We will see,” Elizabeth replied.

***

Meryton Assembly Hall

A Few Minutes Later

The room glittered and shone with the colors of everyone’s best evening attire, with jewels and feathers and ribbons proudly displayed by their wearers. The gossip of matrons and the farm-talk of their husbands vied for space with the cheerful melodies as performed by a trio of rubicund musicians for the benefit of the matrons’ sons and daughters, who whirled on the dance floor in the middle of the hall. A generously proportioned table sat along one wall, covered with a white linen cloth that made a snowy backdrop for a dozen silver and china platters bearing an assortment of tarts and biscuits and ratafia cakes and sandwiches. A large, well filled punch bowl sat proudly in the very center of the table.

It was not as grand a ballroom as could be found in London. It was old, and slightly shabby in some corners, perhaps, with a darned tablecloth and curtains that had faded in the sun, but it was familiar, and beloved, and filled with cheer. Elizabeth had many happy memories of dances on this very floor.

Elizabeth twirled around for the last time and came to a halt facing her partner, Mr. Samuel Lucas, the eldest son and heir of Sir William Lucas. Samuel, an old friend, grinned and began clapping, and she clapped with him, and then he gallantly held out his arm and she took it with a smile.

“Would you like a glass of punch, Miss Lizzy?” he asked cheerfully.

“I would, but perhaps you can escort me to Charlotte’s side first?” she replied, as her eyes fell on Samuel’s elder sister.

“Of course!” her partner replied and duly guided Elizabeth to a chair next to Miss Charlotte Lucas, the eldest of the Lucas children.

“Eliza!” Charlotte said, patting the chair beside her, and her friend sat down with enthusiasm.

“I will fetch your punch,” Samuel said, “and one for you as well, Charlotte.”

“Thank you, Samuel,” Miss Lucas replied, and turned to her friend as her brother hurried away. “My dear, you look lovely tonight.”

“Thank you, Charlotte. My mother insisted on purchasing new gowns for me and Mary and Kitty and Lydia.”

“But not Jane.”

“No, because Mamma believes that the combination of ethereal beauty and Longbourn is enough to tempt any man, and she would rather have Mr. Bingley marry one of us younger girls.”

Charlotte turned her attention to the dance floor, where Jane Bennet, dressed in blue silk with lace at neck and sleeves, was dancing the cotillion with a militia officer.

“She is very lovely,” she said.

Elizabeth opened her mouth and closed it again, uncertain of what to say. Charlotte was a sensible and intelligent woman, but she was neither pretty nor well dowered, with the result that she was now seven and twenty years old and perilously close to being on the shelf.

“She is,” she agreed and changed the subject. “Now, can you tell me anything more about Mr. Bingley of Netherfield Hall?”

“A little bit,” Charlotte responded. “My father said that Mr. Bingley promised him that he will be here for the assembly and bring along a party of friends and relations, including his two sisters. I can only hope that there are not a great many additional ladies, as there is already a shortage of partners, but, oh, look at the door. That must be the Netherfield party!”

Elizabeth looked over and tilted her head at the sight of three unknown gentlemen accompanied by two finally dressed ladies. She chuckled to herself. The next couple of hours would likely prove very interesting.

***

One Hour Later

Darcy lurked in a corner, well aware that he was wearing a scowl that his friends teasingly described as ‘hideous’. He cared not; he was not in the mood to be approached by these provincials. He glowered at the dance floor, silently warning away any homely country miss foolish enough to look his way. He had danced twice already, first with Louisa Hurst and secondly with Caroline Bingley, and he did not intend to step onto the floor again that night. Bingley, of course, had already homed in on the only handsome woman in the room, a blue-eyed beauty with pale blonde hair that would doubtless have Bingley besotted and rhapsodizing about moonlight on gold by the end of the evening.

Darcy’s temper was already sour, so it was perhaps no surprise that his mind shifted back to the sorrows of a few months previously. Last July, he had departed London for Ramsgate on the sea, pleased with the idea of surprising his sweet younger sister with a visit, and had stumbled on a most perfidious scheme. His nails dug into his palms at the recollection; how he had rounded the house to the veranda, how George Wickham had sprung up in shock, releasing his hold on Georgiana’s hand, how Mrs. Younge, seated complacently nearby, had gone white with horror. How joyful Georgiana, in all her innocence, had been to see him; her artless disclosure of Wickham’s plan to marry over the anvil in Gretna Green.

Darcy longed all over again to break Wickham’s nose for him. The abandoned villain, to plot against the girl who had practically been a little sister to him when they were children. No less did he despise Mrs. Younge, so faithless to the sweet girl entrusted to her care. But in the end, Darcy knew where the fault truly lay; with himself, for not looking after Georgiana better, for not more closely examining her companion’s bona fides, for not sending his own faithful servants to Ramsgate to guard her better.

“Darcy!”

He looked up, bewildered for a moment, and then scowled at the sight of Bingley, his face flushed with pleasure, a glass of negus in his hand and a smile on his lips.

“Bingley,” he replied shortly.

“Come, Darcy,” Bingley said, “I must have you dance. I hate to see you standing about by yourself in this stupid manner. You had much better dance.”

Self-loathing gave way to irritation, and he said, “I certainly shall not. You know how I detest it, unless I am particularly acquainted with my partner. At such an assembly as this, it would be insupportable. Your sisters are engaged, and there is not another woman in the room whom it would not be a punishment to me to stand up with.”

“I would not be so fastidious as you are,” cried Bingley indignantly, “for a kingdom! Upon my honor, I never met with so many pleasant girls in my life as I have this evening. And there are several of them, you see, uncommonly pretty.”

“Youare dancing with the only handsome girl in the room,” Mr. Darcy replied, looking at the eldest Miss Bennet, who was standing across from an older woman who, based on their shared features, was probably her mother.

“Oh, she is the most beautiful creature I have ever beheld!” Bingley agreed fervently. “But there is one of her sisters sitting down just behind you, who is very pretty, and I dare say, very agreeable. Do let me ask my partner to introduce you.”

“Which do you mean?” Darcy demanded, turning around. The woman in question was seated some ten feet away, and her hair was dark, not blonde, and her face pretty but not gorgeous. He shook his head and said, “She is tolerable but not handsome enough to temptme, and I am in no humor at present to give consequence to young ladies who are slighted by other men. You had better return to yourpartner and enjoy her smiles, for you are wasting your time with me.”

Bingley sighed, shrugged, and obediently wandered away, while Darcy checked the watch on his chain. It was nearly ten o’clock now, and he hoped he would not have to endure many more hours of this nightmare of boredom.