Page 1 of The Talented Daughters of Longbourn

Cheapside

A cheerful fire crackled behind its screen in the drawing room.

It was a warm and equally pleasant room, if spare; bare tables with rounded corners reflected on a gleaming wooden floor.

The curtains were dark and sensible, hiding any dust they might collect, matching the similarly practical upholstery in the cushioned chairs.

Elizabeth Bennet sat with her back to the window, allowing the sunlight to fall upon the letter in her hands.

Longbourn

October 12 th , 1811

My dear Lizzy,

I regret the necessity of writing this letter, but I fear that you and Jane need to return to Longbourn as soon as possible.

I know we had originally planned that you would stay with your aunt and uncle through the end of October, but my health has taken a turn for the worse, and you are needed here .

I have no doubt that my words are alarming, but I selfishly relish that I can speak honestly to you and Jane on these matters when your mother continues to bury her head in the sand.

I have tried to tell her the truth, but she refuses to listen, and at this point, I am too weary to battle such deliberate ignorance.

My brother, Josiah, will likely ask whether he should accompany you – the answer is, ‘not yet’. I do not believe I am at death’s door, but I am greatly fatigued and need more rest, and your mother, while she sets an excellent table, is not capable of managing other vital duties for the estate.

I would suggest that Jane stay in London, but your mother is writing a letter to her even now, insisting that she return to meet our new neighbor.

Yes, Netherfield Hall is let at last, to a single man of large fortune named Mr. Bingley.

I have not met the man as I have been too unwell to call, but I hear that he is a pleasant young gentleman.

My hand grows weary.

With love,

Thomas Bennet

Elizabeth bit her lip and felt a tear travel down her cheek, which she wiped away impatiently .

“Is your father very unwell?” a gentle voice inquired from her right.

Elizabeth turned to look at her aunt by marriage, Mrs. Charlotte Bennet, and nodded. “Yes, he is feeling worse. You might as well read this.”

She rose and walked over to Charlotte, who looked perturbed and asked, “Are you quite certain your father would wish me to read the letter?”

“Yes,” Elizabeth said steadily, “for when Father dies, you and Josiah and the children will be greatly affected as well.”

Charlotte nodded and took the letter, read it carefully, and then handed it back.

“I am very sorry,” the matron said softly.

“I am as well,” Elizabeth agreed, taking the letter and returning to her seat. “But I confess I am not tremendously surprised. Mary mentioned in her last note that Father has been even more absent than usual from the dinner table. I should have gone home earlier.”

Charlotte turned back to her work – namely, knitting a baby sock – and said, “Pray do not think that way, Eliza. Your father knew that he could summon you at any moment. He obviously wished for you to enjoy your time with us for as long as he was able to manage Longbourn. We have treasured your weeks here and will miss you.”

“We have had a lovely time,” Elizabeth said, smiling fondly at her aunt by marriage, “and we will miss you as well. I fear Jane will be greatly disappointed as she and Uncle Josiah have been working so well together. Mother is sure to throw Jane at this Mr. Bingley’s head, which will annoy Jane a great deal. ”

“I know you do not like to hear it, but your mother is correct in one sense. Mr. Bingley of Netherfield is wealthy and single, and he might well prove a pleasant husband to one of you girls.”

The swish of skirts caused both ladies to turn their heads toward the door, and Jane Bennet strode into the room, dressed in a blue woolen dress whose severity was mitigated only by the fine lace at the collar, a letter gripped in one shapely hand.

Elizabeth smiled up into her sister’s face, noting that the lady’s indignation had caused her already beautiful face to flush becomingly.

Jane Bennet was blonde and blue-eyed, with a perfectly formed nose and rosebud lips.

Her height was neither too tall nor too short, and her figure was elegant.

She was, in fact, one of the most handsome women in all of England, if her mother was to be relied upon.

“I think the whole thing is absurd,” Jane declared, sinking into a seat next to her sister.

“Yes, Mr. Bingley is reputedly rich, but for all we know, he is an unpleasant, irritating sort of man. I see no reason for me, anyway, to rush back to Longbourn to show off my face when I have so much work to do here!”

“I fear there are other reasons for us to return,” Elizabeth said, handing her own letter over. Her elder sister frowned as she opened it and read it, and her anger faded as tears formed in her eyes. “Oh, poor Father! Yes, we must go back to Longbourn at once.”

“I am certain arrangements can be made for us to leave for Hertfordshire tomorrow,” Elizabeth said.

“Well, at any rate, with Father ill, we ought not to be dancing and visiting others in an attempt to win a husband!” Jane said, her cheeks reddening in indignation.

“On the contrary, Jane,” Charlotte said, “given that your mother refuses to accept Mr. Bennet’s poor health, it would probably be a blessing for you to live your normal lives.

Not that you need to try to win the man, but if you ignore Mr. Bingley, your mother will be loudly upset, which cannot be good for your father. ”

Jane sighed and said, “That is true enough.”

“My father has met Mr. Bingley several times,” Charlotte continued. “Sir William assures me that the gentleman is courteous and genial.”

Another set of steps approached the sitting room, heavier ones, and all three ladies turned toward the door as a man of some thirty summers entered with a two-year-old boy in his arms.

“Mamma!” the child squealed excitedly and wiggled out of his father’s grip to rush forward and grasp his mother’s legs around the knees. “Mamma!”

“Hello, Samuel,” Charlotte said, lifting her son into her lap, though the movement was a trifle difficult given that she was within three months of delivering another baby. “Did you have a good nap?”

“His nurse says he had a very good nap,” her husband, Josiah Bennet, said, walking over to sit down next to his wife. “Jane and Elizabeth, you look quite upset. What is wrong?”

“Our father is worse,” Elizabeth replied quietly, handing over the letter.

Josiah took it from her hands, read it, and sighed. “I am so very sorry. I see that my brother does not wish me to come to Longbourn yet, but please know that I will come at any time, day or night, if you need me.”

“Thank you,” Elizabeth said gratefully.

“As for this, Mr. Bingley, I believe my father-in-law has met the man, and he is reputedly charming,” Josiah commented. “I hope that you will not dislike spending time with him. ”

Jane wrinkled her nose and complained, “But I am not done with the horse or the elephant!”

“My dear niece,” Josiah said, his eyes now crinkling with merriment, “I do beg you not to distress yourself. Of course, at your tender age, it is normal for you to be dreadfully impatient…”

He broke off as Jane stooped over to grasp a wooden top lying abandoned on the floor, and threw it at her uncle, who caught it with ease. Charlotte and Elizabeth laughed, and little Samuel squealed and climbed down to grab the toy from his father’s hand.

Jane, smiling in spite of herself, said, “I merely want to complete the sculptures.”

“Can we not take them back to Longbourn so you can finish them there?” Elizabeth asked practically.

Jane looked at Josiah and lifted an eyebrow. “Well, oh greybeard, what do you think? Are we far enough along that I am able to continue my work without your august, guiding presence?”

Josiah, who was only ten years older than his eldest niece, nodded and said, “Without a doubt, Jane. You have made an excellent start, and with Elizabeth’s memory and her sketching, I am confident that you can proceed well without my oversight. ”

“Very well, though I do hope that our mother is not too ... well, you know how she is! I imagine that she will push me toward Mr. Bingley, which will be exasperating.”

Samuel was, by now, trying to spin the top on the wooden floor and failing, so Elizabeth dropped down next to the little boy to show him the correct way.

This, too, provoked cheerful yelps from her little cousin, which prompted Charlotte to ask, “My dear Jane, are you truly opposed to marrying and having children?”

Jane smiled down at the little one and said, “No, I am not opposed, certainly. But I refuse to pursue a man merely for his wealth. After all, I am not impecunious myself!”

“But Mamma does not know that,” Elizabeth pointed out.

“I know, and I wish we could tell her,” Jane replied, obviously exasperated.

“But of course we cannot, because she would reveal to everyone that I am selling my sculptures and wood carvings for good prices, and then it would get out and would draw the ire of local society, since ladies are not supposed to earn their keep in such a way. But it is frustrating.”

“Perhaps Mr. Bingley will have an interesting face,” Elizabeth suggested .

Jane brightened at these words, and her cerulean eyes took on their usual distant gaze when she was thinking about her work. “That is an enjoyable thought, Lizzy. Perhaps he will.”

Charlotte chuckled and said, “I am confident that Mr. Bingley would not be so rude as to take Netherfield if he were a boring or ugly man.”

“Well, as to that, I rather like ugly men,” Jane declared. “Many so called ‘good looking’ men are dull.”

“Jane, Elizabeth,” Charlotte said abruptly, pulling her son close to her and stroking his blond head, “I do wish to say that if Longbourn becomes untenable for the younger girls, I beg you will send them here.”