It was late at night and the fire was almost burnt down to ash in Darcy's study. The house was full of tranquil silence as the master sat staring at the dying embers with a glass of half finished port clutched in his hand. The events of summer plagued him and sleep seemed like a faraway inaccessible land.
"If only I had warned Georgie about him!" he whispered mournfully
He wished so very much that his friend Bennet was alive. With 5 younger sisters of his own, he would surely understand Darcy's pain. Yet, it was not to be and he was left to drown his anguish in his port.
In a moment of certainty, he decided to accept Bingley's invitation, if only to spare his sister the pain of being near him.
OSGOSGOSGOSGOSG
The early morning rays tickled the hills of Hertfordshire, enveloping them in a dreamy halo. Elizabeth Bennet, gaily collected lavender stems in her wicker basket
The sweetness of the morning air brushed her face and she laughed merrily at the fowl trying to escape the confines of her father's fence.
By the time she arrived back home, the house was already starting to stir with excitement that only a household of 6 ladies could bring.
Elizabeth gave her gloves, pelisse and bonnet to a footman and hurried to the distillery to check the progress of her newest concoction.
After making sure the distiller was working smoothly and placing her basket on the counter she made her way upstairs to change her gown.
As she sat in front of the vanity while Betsy styled her hair she contemplated how much the household had changed over the course of a few years. If only….
"No I mustn't think of such things" she said firmly to herself.
"Excuse me Miss Lizzy?"asked Betsy and she twisted and tugged Elizabeth's hair into place.
"Hmm? Oh nothing, I was merely praising your patience in dealing with such unruly hair as mine." She replied, relieved that Betsy was not of an intrusive nature.
Just as Elizabeth picked up her shawl, a lighting storm of pink muslin and ribbon rushed into the room.
"Lizzy!" said Lydia as she gasped for breath "Lizzy you must make me more jasmine water I am all out. It would not do for me to smell like a farm hand."
"It is almost ready Lydia. I promise to have it sent to your room by this afternoon"
"Oh but what shall I do in the meantime?" grumbled the youngest Bennet.
"Here use some of mine. It isn't jasmine of course but I believe it will keep you from smelling like a farm hand did you say it was?"
She grinned as she handed her sister the vile of delicately lavender scented liquid.
"Thank you Lizzy" breathed Lydia as she left the room with as much flamboyance as she entered it.
***** OSGOSGOSGOSGOSGOSGOSG
In another part of the house, a tired Mr Bennet made his way up the front door. He handed his outerwear to the butler and walked into his study, his sanctuary. Mr Bennet, much like his third eldest, was not prone to unhappiness and this uncharecteristic display of depression was most unusual. He delighted in the follies of the world, the knowledge brought by books, satires and most importantly the pleasure and pride that came with tending to his ancestral lands. The Bennets had inhabited Longbourne since the time of Edmund the Unready, and it gave much grief to think that the hard work of many generations would be handed over to a man that didn't even bear the name of Bennet.
For many long minutes Mr Bennet stared at the seven portraits of his wife and children. To him, it almost seemed like eternity as he gazed with glassy eyes at the faces his six children and his beloved wife.
A/N: Hello everyone! It's my first time writing fanfiction. I've read fanfiction for over 5 years and I had so many ideas floating around I decided to type this up on my phone.
Let me know what you think in the reviews! Constructive criticism is welcome.
*I do not own any of Jane Austen's characters. All of Pride and Prejudice original characters belong to Jane Austen. Except the characters that I myself have came up with.*
*This is an original story by Raina and no one is allowed to use this text without my permission.*