The Bennet household had become almost silent in the past year. Lydia, one of the biggest contributors to the noise, had been the first to go. She had married Mr. Wickham in a hasty manner to quiet the awful and true rumors that were circulating. And then Jane and Elizabeth left together, respectively. They both had gone to Pemberly, the estate of Lizzy's husband, Mr. Darcy. And perhaps the worst of all, Mama had fallen ill and died rather suddenly. All that remained at Longbourn were Mr. Bennet, Mary, and Kitty and there were no other sisters more dissimilar than that pair.
Mary, at two and twenty, spent her days at the piano forte or reading in her room and twenty year-old Kitty… well Kitty was no longer the silly, vibrant girl she had once been. Gone were the days of trimming bonnets with Lydia, walking to Meryton with Jane and Lizzy, and attending assemblies with all her dear sisters. She was not allowed to attend assemblies anymore, her father, who stayed in his library more than usual, refused to allow her to go unless Mary went as well, which she never did. Her appearance had changed as well. She had become sickly pale and had developed dark circles under her eyes. She was alone in her world.
Kitty and Mary were in the sitting room after breakfast reading and trying their best to ignore the other when Hill came in with the post. There was a letter addressed to the both of them from Lizzy, inviting her and Mary to visit Pemberly.
"Of course, we can not go, Kitty. Father will not allow us to leave Longbourn," Mary stated piously. Kitty's eyes began to tear up as Father entered the room.
"On the contrary, Mary. Lizzie has written to me and I have been invited as well. I see no reason not to go." He walked to the window. "Lizzie has invited us indefinitely. She and Mr. Darcy are concerned that the two of you may never marry if we remain here. And while I am sure that you, Mary, would have no objection to that, Kitty, I fear that you might go mad if we were to remain here much longer."
"When are we to leave, sir?" Kitty asked.
"Tomorrow morning, I think. I quite agree that Longbourn no longer feels like home any more since you poor Mama passed." He turned and faced his two daughters, tears welling up in his grey eyes. "I never thought that she would be first." He collected himself and dismissed Mary and Kitty to pack up all their belongings because Mr. Bennet secretly doubted that any of them would ever return again.
He had felt his wife's death deeply. She had irritated and annoyed him for years and her habit of spending more than she ought and lack of sense always bothered him, he still loved her as much as he did on the day Jane was born. His daughters did not know it, but every night that both he and his wife were at home, after the girls and the servants were asleep, he would move from his room to hers and sleep there, with her. He literally could count the nights he had not slept in her bed while at Longbourn on one hand, the nights after his daughters had been born. Mr. Bennet regretted that he had not been with Mrs. Bennet when she died. No one had. She had died in her sleep and Kitty was the one who found her.
Poor Kitty. She could not speak for a week afterwards. He was so worried for her, for she never went ten minutes without speaking normally, he sent for a doctor from town who told him that she was simply in shock from finding her mother dead. Of all his children, Kitty reminded him the most of his wife when they first met. She was the only one to have Fanny's dark red hair and pale blue eyes eyes. Lizzy, Mary, and Lydia took after him and had both dark eyes and hair and Jane looked like his mother, icy blonde and grey eyes. But Kitty was almost his wife reincarnated. And it killed him to see the pain in those eyes that were so familiar to him.
Mr. Bennet retired to his library and began to write a letter that no one else would read.
My Dearest Fanny,
I shall not ask again why you left us or if you will return. I only ask that your thoughts lie with Kitty, not my self or the other girls (unless you know something I do not). She is not our Kitty anymore. I almost miss her mindless chatter with Lydia or giggling about officers or arguing with Mary.
She cries so much, my dear, that Hill told me that she ran out of handkerchiefs yesterday and they had all been washed the day before. I have often found her in your room, sitting in your chair, watching to road. What am I to do, Fanny? My daughter is no longer the girl whom I love but a stranger.
Lizzy has invited us to Pemberly and we leave tomorrow. I do not know if I will ever return home to Longbourn. I do not know if I can. In truth, without you, I have no home.
Your Loving Husband,
John Bennet
Mr. Bennet folded the paper and added it to a stack of paper that he then tied a piece of string around and carried with him up to his bedchamber.