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Longbourn, Hertfordshire

Elizabeth Bennet rubbed beeswax into the last panel on her father’s gig then stepped back to admire the shine. “I think that will do it,” she said. She looked to her right as Mr. Bennet walked around the corner of the small equipage.

“It is beautiful, my dear.” He put his hand on her shoulder. “It makes me proud to know you are able to take care of her if something happens to me.”

Elizabeth grinned. “Thank you, Papa.”

Bennet squeezed his daughter’s shoulder before stepping away. “I think we are done for today. Thank you for your assistance. I will leave you to clean up, but I urge you to do it quickly before your mother realizes where you are.”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “I will; I promise.” She watched her father leave the stables before she began putting her materials away.

Elizabeth was Mr. Bennet’s favorite child.

They were very much alike. They both enjoyed the written word and read a wide range of subjects.

They loved to debate the things they read, as well.

Bennet had seen in Lizzy a thirst for learning and had indulged it, educating her as though she were a son and not a daughter.

To his delight, she shared a love for more than just reading, writing, and mathematics.

She had also inherited his love of anything with wheels.

For as long as Elizabeth could remember, her father had owned the gig.

He had once told her that it was a single man’s toy and that her mother would prefer him to get rid of it, but Bennet loved it and had restored it himself.

That was not a fact he shared with many people.

It was unheard of for a gentleman to get his hands dirty, but Elizabeth knew that her Papa reveled in the work.

She also knew that the equipage was not part of the estate and that his will left it to her, along with the mare he kept to pull it.

Elizabeth’s work on the gig was a tightly-held secret between the two of them.

They did their best to hide it from her mother and sisters, with the help of the servants.

They were not always successful, which usually led to Elizabeth being more closely monitored for a while by Mrs. Bennet – a circumstance Lizzy hated – but as a rule, they hid it well.

With all her tools and supplies put away, Elizabeth hung her apron up on a peg and crept outside, keeping a sharp eye out for anyone from the house.

Seeing no one, she slipped in the back door and through the kitchen, greeting the cook, scullery maid, and housekeeper with a grin and a wave.

She turned left into the hallway and tiptoed up the back stairs, knowing the female members of the family were likely in the front parlor at this time of day.

She entered her bedchamber, which connected to her elder sister Jane’s via a closet, and quickly washed her face and hands, re-pinned her hair, and changed her gown.

She was just finishing up when someone knocked on her door.

“Come in!”

Jane slipped into the room, closing the wooden panel behind her and sitting on the bed. “Did you hear Mama’s news?”

Elizabeth smiled. “No, I missed it.” She winked.

“Oh, Lizzy.” Jane laughed. “You are too good at sneaking out to avoid her effusions.”

“Mmmm.” Elizabeth tried to keep her mien solemn but her lips insisted on twitching. “Perhaps.” She broke into a grin when Jane laughed again. “What has made her so happy?”

“She heard from my Aunt Phillips that Netherfield has been let. She said that Mr. Morris brought some papers by Uncle’s office to have him copy and that the gentleman will take possession before Michaelmas.”

“Indeed?” Elizabeth joined her sister on the bed. “Was she able to describe him?”

Jane shook her head. “No, just that his name begins with a B and he is from the north of England.”

“Well,” Elizabeth said with a shrug. “Michaelmas is only a few weeks away. Before you know it, we will be meeting this gentleman. Has Mama chosen a wife for him yet?”

“Lizzy!” Jane shook her head but then rolled her eyes and grinned. “I should not encourage you in speaking of your mother this way, but you know she has … me!”

Elizabeth laughed heartily. “You know why she chose you.”

“I do; because I am beautiful.” Jane rolled her eyes again and stood. “Hush, now. Instead of talking more about things that are likely never to happen, let us go down to the drawing room. Mama will expect us for tea soon.”

“Very well,” Elizabeth said as she stood. “Lead on, my fair sister.”

Giggling, the two eldest Bennet daughters made their way to the family parlor on the ground floor to await their mother and younger sisters.

Meryton Assembly Rooms, Hertfordshire

October 15, 1811

Fitzwilliam Darcy followed his friends into the local assembly room.

He was not looking forward to the coming events of the night, but Charles Bingley, his host, had insisted the entire party attend with him.

Since Bingley was new to the area and was considering leasing long-term the estate into which he had recently moved, it behooved him to befriend the neighbors, and since Darcy was not only his friend but also a bit of a mentor, Darcy felt obligated to attend with him.

The only thing that made the thought of a room full of strangers who expected him to dance with their daughters acceptable was the sure knowledge that one of the party had a fortune at least as large as his own.

For once, the whispers about money will not be only about mine, he thought.

Once inside the building, the five of them – Darcy, Bingley, Bingley’s sister Louisa Hurst and her husband, Reginald, and Darcy and Bingley’s friend, Albert Madison – gave their outerwear to the servant assigned to take them and made their way to the set of double doors behind which an orchestra could be heard tuning up.

Bingley and Madison entered first, followed by the Hursts. Darcy brought up the rear.

As he had expected, the entire room fell silent at their entrance.

Darcy took a deep breath and stiffened, his entire being wanting nothing more than to melt into the floorboards.

He hated being on display. He forced himself to don the mask of indifference that was expected of one of his class, and braced himself for what was surely to come.

At that point, a gentleman of middling years with a touch of gray at his temples approached and bowed to Bingley.

“Welcome to our little assembly, Mr. Bingley!”

Bingley bowed in return. “Thank you, Sir William. I am happy to be here.” He gestured to Madison. “May I introduce you to my friends?”

“Oh, yes! Please do.” Sir William Lucas clasped his hands together. Darcy was certain it must be to keep them still, as the gentleman seemed ready to applaud at any moment.

“Beside me is Mr. Albert Madison of Maidstone in Essex. Behind me is my brother, Mr. Reginald Hurst of Greenfriar in Lincolnshire and my sister, Mrs. Hurst, and in the back is Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy, of Brook Street in London and Pemberley in Derbyshire .”

Darcy bowed in greeting, accepting the effusive welcome of the man with nothing more than a nod.

Within moments, he found himself following the group as Sir William began to introduce them to the other attendees.

He found the exercise tiresome in the extreme.

That is, until one face stood out in the crowd.

About halfway down the room, Sir William stopped in front of a group of ladies.

“My eldest daughter you know,” he said as he gestured to an older girl standing to the left of the group. “On the right is Mrs. Bennet of Longbourn and her daughters, Miss Jane Bennet and Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”

As the ladies curtsied, Darcy was first struck by the fact that Mrs. Bennet and Miss Jane Bennet could have been twins.

Both were blonde and beautiful, with big blue eyes.

The only difference he could discern between them was the hint of lines fanning out from the mother’s eyes.

Otherwise, her skin was as smooth and glowing as that of her daughter, and her figure was just as slim.

If he had not been introduced, he would not have realized their relationship.

This startling observation was overshadowed, however, when he took in the dark orbs and slightly curled lips of Miss Elizabeth Bennet.

Darcy was struck dumb when he looked at her, his heart stopping for a moment before speeding up.

His mouth went dry. He bowed, and when he straightened and their eyes met, he felt as though he were falling into a deep well.

His face grew hot at the same time he saw her cheeks turn pink.

He could not look away, though his ingrained manners were screaming at him that he should.

He was startled out of it when he was nudged by one of his friends.

“Darcy is an excellent dancer, though he is not overly fond of the exercise.”

Darcy glanced at Bingley before addressing the ladies. “My friend is correct. Dancing is not my favorite activity. However, if Miss Elizabeth Bennet would favor me with her hand, I would be delighted to partner with her.”

Elizabeth’s light blush deepened, but she smiled prettily and curtseyed. “I would be happy to dance with you, sir. Which set would you like?”

Darcy swallowed, his heart continuing to race as it had since he first set eyes on her. “The next, if you have it available.”

“I am free for the next set. I will keep it for you.” Elizabeth kept her gaze trained on his.

The thought that this beautiful, fascinating creature was as entranced by him as he was by her made him wish to take her away somewhere and learn everything there was about her – her thoughts and beliefs, her hopes and dreams, and what it would be like to brush his lips across hers. He swallowed.

“Thank you. I look forward to our dances.” He bowed once more and felt his friend pull him along to greet the next family.