Page 13 of The Talented Daughters of Longbourn

Music Room

Longbourn

Elizabeth paused in the doorway, looking affectionately at the two people seated on the bench before the pianoforte, the pleasant strains of a complicated duet floating around her.

Both her sister Mary and Mr. Isaac Turnball were so focused on the music that her presence did not even register, permitting her to bask in the melody for a moment and observe the players.

Their music master was a plain man, tall and thin and graceful but not unduly comely. He would, in fact, be the sort of man easily missed in a crowded room, were it not for his shock of bright red hair.

He was also unfailingly gentle, devoutly godly, and decidedly good-natured.

He was endlessly patient with the Bennet girls when they made mistakes in their playing, and he was both firm and kind in his instructions.

He would make Mary a marvelous husband, and Elizabeth rejoiced to know that her dear sister would wed a man whom she loved and esteemed .

The duet came to a pleasing end, and Elizabeth clapped, which caused both Mary and Mr. Turnball to turn towards her. “That was truly lovely,” she said, moving farther into the room.

Mr. Turnball smiled, standing up from the bench. “Thank you, Miss Elizabeth.”

“I believe that you must call me Elizabeth now, for we are soon to be brother and sister,” Elizabeth pointed out, smiling up at him.

“Elizabeth, then, and of course you must call me Isaac. I realize that I have been neglecting my responsibilities of late. I shall need to arrange for a lesson for you, Sister. ”

“Indeed,” she agreed, her smile turning a trace rueful, “but you must be patient with me.”

“I am certain you will do splendidly, Lizzy,” Mary said, eyes bright.

Mr. Turnball cast her an affectionate look. “Your sister is a delightful player, it is true,” he acknowledged. Mary beamed up at him, and Elizabeth was overjoyed to see her sister’s happiness.

/

The Attic

Longbourn

Two Hours Later

Elizabeth shifted her paper once more into the slowly shifting sunlight crawling across the table beneath the window. Behind her, the door opened, and she heard the familiar treads of her eldest and youngest sister, respectively.

“Lizzie, have you finished the sketches of Mr. Fitzwilliam? All angles?” Jane asked, crossing the room.

“Yes,” Elizabeth answered a bit absently, her pencil moving in swift strokes over her paper. “You will find them on the side table by the couch.”

Lydia’s steps approached, and she peered over Elizabeth’s shoulder. “Mr. Darcy? He is very good-looking, I suppose, even if he is terribly proud.”

Elizabeth glanced up from her sketching. “Actually, he apologized to me for his rudeness at the assembly when he and Miss Darcy visited this morning. We also discussed books and literature while Mary and Miss Darcy were talking about music.”

Jane came over from where she had been examining the sketches of Mr. Fitzwilliam to cast an approving eye over the ones of Darcy.

“He is not as interesting as Mr. Fitzwilliam,” she remarked, “but he is handsome in a classical sense. I could perhaps make a bust by drawing on features from both men. Can you draw his right profile, Lizzy?”

“Regrettably, I cannot,” Elizabeth replied, “as I was sitting and standing such that I was only able to memorize his countenance from the front and left. But I daresay I will see him again.”

“And what about poor Mr. Bingley?” Lydia asked mischievously. “Are you warming up to him yet, Jane?”

“No,” Jane replied disinterestedly, moving back toward her elephant sculpture. “He is nice enough, but he is boring and lackadaisical. He is content to be apathetic and allow his sisters to run his house and his friend to run his estate. His manners are pleasant, but he is bland.”

“Well,” Lydia mused as she watched her elder sister complete Mr. Darcy’s profile from the left. “I, for one, would prefer to marry a bland man who is kind, than someone who is unpleasant or cruel.”

“That is true,” Jane agreed, carefully carving another line into the elephant’s front leg.

“Indeed,” Elizabeth added warmly, and sent a teasing glance up at Lydia. “And you might well one day be quite happy to marry a mild-willed man, Lyddy! ”

Lydia laughed and said, “I might! But I am far too young to be considering such things right now.”

The door creaked open again, and Kitty peered around it at them all. “Mamma wants us downstairs to discuss the visit from the Netherfield party and discuss which of us should marry which gentleman.”

Lydia groaned and Jane sighed as she set aside her chisel. “How absurd.”

“It is absurd,” Elizabeth agreed, rising and brushing coal dust from her hands, “but we must go.” The four sisters departed the room, closing the door firmly behind them as they left.

/

The Library

Longbourn

A few days later

The library was suffused with the milky light of the cool overcast sky, the fire casting its flickering illumination only at one end of the room. Golden light pooled across the desk from twin candles, brightening the books and the papers spread there, and the pen scratching across them.

Elizabeth lay down her quill and tilted her head around on her neck, flexing her fingers at the same time.

She glanced over towards the fire and the slight, blanket-swathed figure sitting with an open Bible on his lap.

Her father’s skin was still pale and translucent, but his cheeks were not so shrunken, and his eyes were brighter.

Mr. Bennet looked up at this juncture and caught her eye, and he set his book aside. “My dear Lizzy, I do beg you not to work yourself to the bone over the books.”

“I promise I am not, Father,” she replied, closing the ledger, standing up, and walking over to enjoy the heat of the fire.

“Truly, it is no great penance. I enjoy numbers, and it is interesting to observe where the money goes. Mary and I have been discussing some of the details, as she is eager to learn as much as possible about how to manage a household.”

Mr. Bennet’s smiling face shifted to worry, and he plucked his blanket with one unquiet hand. “I like Mr. Turnball very well, Lizzy, but I do worry about Mary; can she, as a gentleman’s daughter, survive on so little?”

“Jane and I are adding one hundred fifty pounds to their income until Mr. Turnball is installed in the living in Kent. Mary is not addicted to finery and is eager to make do on a small income. She will be well. ”

Her father’s eyes glistened at these words, and he reached out to grasp Elizabeth’s arm. “That is very kind of you and Jane.”

“We are eager to assist, Father,” his second daughter assured him.

“If only I had saved up better for the future...”

“You helped us all pursue our passions when we were young, Father,” Elizabeth said tenderly.

“Kitty is making a small income from her angora garments, and together Jane and I are making substantial sums from sculpting and wood carving. Mary is blessed to be engaged to a godly man who shares her love of music, and Lydia...”

She laughed aloud and continued, “Well, Lydia would likely be admiral of the British navy if she were a man; she has such a strong will, combined with a calculating mind!”

“So long as she uses those gifts for good,” her father grumbled.

“She is, thus far anyway,” Elizabeth said.

“She manages Mother better than any of the rest of us, and she has entirely charmed the rather annoying sisters of Mr. Bingley. I quite enjoy our visits with the Netherfield party, but I gladly give Lydia, and to some degree Kitty, credit for keeping Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst busy talking of clothing, hats, and accomplishments so we older girls can enjoy our time with the gentlemen and Miss Darcy.”

Mr. Bennet cocked an awakened eyebrow at these words and said, “Are you and Jane, perchance, romantically interested in any of the gentlemen?”

Elizabeth found herself blushing a little, but she said, readily enough, “We are not in love, if that is what you mean. Mr. Bingley keeps making sheep’s eyes at Jane, but she is wholly indifferent to the gentleman; he is certainly kind, but too dull for her liking.

I think that Jane is far more sympathetic to Mr. Fitzwilliam, who is a former army man, than any of the others.

As for me, well – Mr. Darcy is obviously well read and, while somewhat stiff in company, is an excellent and caring brother.

We had a fine time discussing Shakespearean plays yesterday. ”

“I see,” Mr. Bennet said, and put his hands on the arms of his chair in order to push himself up into a standing position. “I am rather tired and will take a short nap now.”

“Let me call Anderson, Father,” Elizabeth said, eying him worriedly. Yes, her father was not quite as gaunt, but he was undeniably weak if he struggled to stand.

“Thank you, my dear.”

Elizabeth hurried out of the room and found Anderson, her father’s valet, hovering nearby.

She sent him within and then, after glancing at her watch, decided she could safely go outdoors for an hour before dressing for dinner.

It was chilly outside, but she needed fresh air and time away from the demands and sorrows of Longbourn.

She found herself tiptoeing down the stairway into the front foyer, where she carefully put on her pelisse, gloves, and a warm hat before sneaking out of the house.

She could hear her mother in the nearby drawing room carrying on about Mr. Bingley and Jane, and she feared that if Mrs. Bennet heard her, she would order her to stay within to add to her audience.

Once she was outside and free, she made her way rapidly over to the stables behind the house, where Coachman Jack oversaw the Bennets’ horses and carriage. There were several stableboys as well, and they all bobbed their heads in respect as she passed them by.

She wandered around the east end of the stable block and passed a small wooden building, glanced inside the partially open door, and halted at the sight of her second youngest sister.

“Kitty!” she said, opening the door the entire way and stepping within. “I did not know you were out here!”

She sneezed once, dust floating languidly on the air.

Sawdust and rabbit odor mingled and scented the air musky.

Woodchips and curls of shavings littered the floor, the walls lined with hutches.

Inside, a number of rabbits were sprawled out asleep or sitting up chewing food and gazing out at the sturdy outbuilding that had been converted for their use.

Sunlight filtered in through the glassed windows, which were an extravagance, but it was beneficial for the rabbits.

Several old wooden chairs that had been discarded from the house were set in the middle of the room.

Kitty perched in one now, running a comb rhythmically through the fur of one of her rabbits, which lay docile in her lap.

It was an essential activity, both to keep the animals healthy, and to keep their fur in favorable condition for spinning.

“I found I needed some fresh air,” Kitty said, and rolled her eyes dramatically, though her patient combing of the animal did not cease.

“Is Mamma being very trying?” Elizabeth asked sympathetically, taking a chair across from her sister.

“Very! She goes on and on about Mr. Bingley and Jane, and it is obvious to everyone that Jane is not interested at all, but Mamma will not hear it! She seems to think that merely because the man is rich, Jane should make every effort to win his favor!”

“I expect that such a thought process is exactly why Mamma pursued our father. ”

Kitty nodded and said, “I understand, I suppose, that it is pleasant to be mistress of a fine house and to be wealthy – certainly we have more money than our Uncle and Aunt Phillips, but Jane is not Mamma. She would never be happy with a marriage of convenience!”

“True,” her sister said, “but I fear Mamma is incapable of understanding that.”

She looked around at the various fluffy creatures hopping or sleeping or squatting in their hutches, and said, “Are any of your does pregnant?”

“No,” Kitty said decidedly, pulling her rabbit closer to her and kissing it gently on its fluffy gray head.

“I have decided not to breed my does in autumn and winter; it is harder for the mothers to nurture the kittens when it is cold outside. In any case, we have ten rabbits now, which provide plenty of fur for my spinning and weaving.”

“They are beautiful,” Elizabeth said.

They were beautiful, and they were also a substantial amount of work.

Two of the stable boys managed the rabbits’ daily care in terms of feeding and cleaning, but it was Kitty who oversaw their diet, carefully brushed and curried them, and generally looked after them.

This, too, was unknown to Mrs. Bennet, who would be horrified to learn that her own daughter was tending to animals .

It was sad, Elizabeth thought, that the Bennet girls found it necessary to hide so much from their own mother.