Mrs Jones, the wife of Meryton's elderly rector, despite the occasional rheumatic paroxysms lived a rather content and comfortable life. Her situation was respectable and her affable open manner ensured she was always engaged in a tête-à-tête with one of the parishioners, followed by tea and some baked goods. Nonetheless, after they took their leave, their tales of childish antics at home, wounded her tender heart for she had not been similarly blessed and she would plunge herself into a wistful fancy. Her fancy would take the figure of Miss Mary Bennet, a twelve year old daughter of Longbourn; whose plain looks in comparison to the beauty of her sisters ensured she was always overlooked.

Mary Bennet enjoyed her weekly pilgrimages to the rectory, for Mrs Jones was a warm maternal figure without the remonstrations of her wanting looks. She was both Mary's confidante and only friend, for she was dismissed at home as silly and a prudish bluestocking in the village. Assisting Mrs Jones in her errands and tending to the poor kept Mary as equally employed and happy as when she practiced on the pianoforte or read a book.

In an autumnal afternoon, as she traipsed down a path of golden and reddish hues to Longbourn from the rectory in merry spirits, Mary espied a figure clad in primrose hastening to a trunk. Intrigued, Mary began to follow, but the crunching of the leaves, alerted the figure to her presence.

Whirling around, eyes wide and frantic, the figure pleaded, "Please, I beseech you. Do not reveal me."

Nodding in obeisance, Mary watched as the figure straggled up the trunk and hid amongst the branches. Shaking her head, Mary turned and began her way back home, when she heard distinct furious voices.

"Where is she? That damn little wretch!" cursed a man. "Albert, if we don't find her, lord knows what'll the mistress shall do to us".

"Phil, you mean what the master will do, if he finds out that she concocted this plot," laughed Albert. "We are to take her across the Atlantic to America as it is. So, we go without her, she'll be as good as gone anyway."

"Right Albert, we'll scavenge these woods and oft we go," chuckled Phil.

"Look, there's a wee lass, She must have seen something." pointed Albert before exclaiming "Lass!"

Turning around meekly, afraid of being caught in the act of eavesdropping, Mary's eyes widened as a small gasp escaped her as two unsavoury males in dusty travelling clothes approached her.

"Lass, have you seen a fair girl clad in yellow around here?" asked Phil, "You see, my daughter is playing a game of hide and seek with me; and it's getting a tad late."

"No," stuttered Mary, "I saw a pheasant, though."

"Thank ye lass" answered Albert, "Phil, let's go. The ship'll leave tomorrow; and we'll have to ride through the night, if we are to make the passage."

"Your right, the girl won't be able to fend for herself as it is." grunted Phil in acquiesce, as the two men retreated towards Meryton.

The shock of the encounter had finally worn off and Mary disturbed by her admission or rather falsehood, sighed and shrugged in an unladylike fashion, before strolling down the path in an agitated manner once more.

"Wait!" gasped the figure, "I am much obliged to you, but I do not have anything to bestow upon you as a token of my gratitude. Thank you so very much for not telling them my location."

"It is my Christian duty to help those less fortunate than myself. I do not need a reward, for doing what I ought," sniffed Mary, "To fulfil a moral responsibility in exchange for a prize is reprehensible."

"Indeed, you are right," smiled the figure. "I fear there is no other way around this, for I am acquainted with no one in these parts; so I hope you forgive me for this breach in social decorum, I am Alexandra Eleanor Somerset Berkley, but you must call me Annie."

"Oh, I am just Mary Bennet," replied Mary in awe at the girl's forwardness.

"Well, Miss Bennet, would you be so kind as to direct me to a town, which is willing to exchange used hair ribbons and boots for money? I do not believe the post chaise will agree to barter with me, no matter how prettily I smile and flutter my eyelashes." remarked Annie wryly.

Laughing at the remark, Mary blushed and whispered, "Oh, I am terribly sorry."

"Don't be, I find myself in a rather perplexing predicament. It is quite humourous," laughed Annie.

"Well I'll escort you to where the post chaise stops; and I'll give you the money for your fare" replied Mary nonchalantly.

"But that must be a small fortune! I could not possibly accept such a sum," gasped Annie.

"It is alright, I do not spend my allowance on anything but music and books. I can just practice the same pieces at home. It is an amount I can forgo," replied Mary.

"Miss Bennet, you are an angel! Your generosity is humbling," smiled Annie, "Tell me about your home."

"I will," complied Mary, as she guided her new friend to Meryton. "I am the middle daughter of a family of five girls. My father owns a small estate, Longbourn, about two miles from here. It is entailed away, so my mother's nerves are easily vexed; and she hopes that we all marry well to secure our futures. As you can see, I am quite plain, and my mother quite despairs for my future prospects, so I like to read or practice on the pianoforte. My mother says my accomplishments are all I have."

"Ah, you are a great conversationalist as well Miss Bennet," smiled Annie, "and would you be so kind as to tell me, which county I am in?"

"Hertfordshire," replied Mary merrily, "And where do you hail from?"

"Gloucestershire, so three counties from here," answered Annie, "I believe we would have been the best of friends Miss Bennet, had we lived in the same county. I am twelve and you are appear to be the same age as me. It is a pity."

"I am twelve," grinned Mary, "You must call me Mary, if I am to address you as Annie. It would only be proper. We are here, will you be safe?"

"I will be, shall you be? You have taken a great diversion in bringing me here and it is getting quite dark." asked Annie worriedly.

"I will be fine," grinned Mary, as she took out her purse and handed over a couple of shillings. "Just in case, you might not be able to barter."

"Thank you Mary, would you like to correspond with me?" asked Annie apprehensively.

"I would like that very much," replied Mary, "I should go home now."

***

"Alexandra Eleanor Somerset Berkley!" bellowed the Marquis of Berkley at his oldest daughter. "What were you thinking of running away as far as the outskirts of this county? Is it not enough that you live in this finery and I purchase anything that catches your fancy?"

"Father, I did not run away! And I went as far as Hertfordshire!" cried Annie indignantly, "I did not decide on a whim to explore the wild landscape of England. Your wife decided to have me kidnapped by two scoundrels who were to take me to America! If you are to lose your patience at anyone it should be at her!"

"Alexandra, I will not have you speaking lies about your mother." exclaimed the Marquis.

"Lies? She is not my mother! She is your second wife, if you cannot keep count. Do you think I enjoyed two days in a post chaise? Do you know how many of the passengers wreaked of rum? She hired those men to take me away; and I heard them say as such!" yelled Annie.

"I am your father, the head of this household. I will not have you speaking to be with such disrespect. Nor will I tolerate these falsehoods you keep telling about my wife. You will go to your rooms and remain there for a sen'night. Have I made myself clear?" asked the Marquis.

"Indeed you have my Lord," replied Annie, as she sullenly curtsied and exited towards her rooms.

***

Berkley Castle, Gloucestershire

October 18th 1784

My dearest Mary,

Forgive me for not writing earlier, but my father did not appreciate the escapade that led me to Hertfordshire and I have been for the past week confined to my rooms. I hope you are well and that your family remains in great spirits. Though my sojourn in Hertfordshire was not planned, I am thankful that it gave me the opportunity to become acquainted with you. Your kindness and generosity warmed my very heart, for my current company is filled with artifice, superficiality, greed and deceit.

I was not completely honest with you when we met, as I was apprehensive and uncertain of how you would respond if you knew of my true origins. Most people of my acquaintance refer to me as Lady Alexandra. My father is the Marquess of Berkley and is very wealthy. May I be so bold to ask for your confidence Mary? You are the only dear friend I have ever known. The current Lady of Berkley is a vile, repulsive creature. She was his mistress before my mother died giving birth to me. He married her and she despises me with a passion. I am in the greatest confidence that you must have reached some conjecture having heard those two villains speak. She hired them to take me to the wilds of America, without my father's knowledge or consent. I believe she would murder me herself, if she could. She is a devious, cunning Jezebel.

I hope you can overlook these objections to my character and wish to remain friends with me. I assure you, if I had the choice, I would disown her. I too am the middle child. I have a brother, my senior by two years, James. And then there is the daughter of the current Lady Berkley, Caroline, who is just as vapid and a true reflection of her mother. I shall say no more on this subject, for my bitterness is showing; and I wish for you to see me as a creature of utmost perfection, someone worthy to be a friend of yours.

I am afraid we did not delve deeper into tastes and preferences in music or books. I have enclosed some sheet music from various composers, as I am not sure, which you would prefer. Forgive me, if it is presumptuous, but I have also enclosed some books, which guide you in French, German and Latin, as I am not sure if you are acquainted with any of those languages. There are some great works of literature in those languages, which I would like you to read and provide me with your thoughts and feelings. My brother and I sometimes engage in debates over them; and I would like another opinion.

In case you think I am an utmost bore, I have also enclosed some pastries, which Cook assures me will last the distance and not stale until they reach you. They are some of my favourites. You will find the sum you gave me in a small purse, which I attempted to embroider for you. Forgive me, but my embroidery will never be admired. I hope the parcel will bring you much joy and remind you that someone can see past the exterior to admire and appreciate the wonderful person you actually are.

Please don't reply to this missive or direct anything to the above location. I am trying to convince my grandfather to come save me from these confines and take me to his estate. I will write to you from there and we shall begin our proper correspondence. God bless you.

Yours with much affection,

Annie