A/N: Just a short thing I wrote about why Mr. Bennet married Mrs. Bennet. perhaps I'm interpolating a little but I always loved the way Mr. Bennet teased his wife and so I added a little romance.
"And what are we to do, Mrs. Bennet, when even Mary and Kitty leaves us?" I asked one morning over breakfast.
"They've already left us Mr. Bennet! Mary staying at the Lucas's for a fortnight and Kitty at Pemberly. You know, Lizzy says Kitty is moving along very well in society. She says some gentlemen have even proposed to my dear Kitty. At least my nerves at a rest," she said, with a look on her face on maternal pride.
There were times when I doubted if any of them, even my dear Lizzy and Jane, would be married. But nevertheless, there came that day when they were all happily married, to deserving gentlemen of very good fortune. Some may even call us very fortunate indeed, with such connections as the Darcys and the Bingleys. But I look across the table and there sat Mrs. Bennet sipping her tea, probably thinking about this gossip and that around the neighborhood. I looked on with a frown edged into my brow. Fortunate indeed.
She was probably thinking about who to call on this afternoon, or who to send those new handkerchiefs she had just embroidered to. Her honey eyes whirled around in a frenzy. Some may think she would be thinking of something more productive in this world but I knew better.
She hasn't changed a bit in all those years I've known her. The first time I've laid eyes on her were at an assembly. She was a pretty thing at the time, with eyes and hair both the color of honey. But I was an intelligent man and it took more than a pretty face and good humor to make me love anyone.
I'm a gentleman and she wasn't the type that I was suppose to marry. I was suppose to marry another gentleman's daughter, not a local attorney's poor daughter with little than a few hundred pounds to her name. I sought her out. She giggled as I asked for a dance and all the while, I thought she was the most insipid, stupidest, childish girl I've ever met. I teased her nonstop and she would puff up with anger, her cheeks darkening to a dangerous red.
But every time I looked at those angry and irritated eyes, those lovely red cheeks and those lips that curled every time she was mad, I couldn't help but want to laugh inside. She was a silly woman, and it took little to make her happy. She would smile at the stupidest things from dishes to roses to plain old white linen and all you had to do was smile right back at her to make her feel reassured. She could never make up her mind on anything and in some ways, she was more childish than any child I've ever known. My father says I've married her because she was a pretty thing and good humored along with that. And along the years of our marriage, it provided a good answer to why someone like me would ever consider marrying someone like her. I didn't respect her. I didn't find any conversation with her. But I still remember the first time I met her. I fondly refer to it as the worst mistake of my life.
I looked across the table again. This time, she was looking at me.
"Yes Mrs. Bennet?" I asked.
"What are you thinking about?"
"The worst mistake of my life," I replied, smiling.
She stabbed her eggs with a force and didn't look at me anymore. I wanted to laugh. But I didn't.
"Well it was your fault for making it. I had many gentlemen chasing after me at the time, I'll have you know, definitely those who would be kinder and gentler and compassionate on my nerves," she replied, with a pout.
"I'm sure there were, Mrs. Bennet, I'm sure there were."
In fact, there were. I still remember a couple of blokes who were madly in love with her. She had a charming, innocent and somewhat naivety to her that attracted a few men. I didn't think I would be one of them. I preferred intelligent women; those would carry on conversations, like my Lizzy.
But there was something about her. I couldn't quite put my finger on it as I watched her giggle to a friend some 25 years ago. I didn't think I would marry her. My eyes for marriage were on a gentleman's daughter named Mary, or was it Anne? However, I danced with her that night and I couldn't get those honey colored eyes and the way her cheeks flushed out of my mind. It was more than fun teasing her. It was what I lived for that summer. She would complain, blush and tell me she would find some other beau. But she never did and whatever other bloke who liked her enough, I would get in the way. I didn't know why. At the time, I had no intention of marriage. I merely planned to tease her heart out for the summer. But when it came time to leave, I found I enjoyed her company more than I would ever admit to myself or anyone else in the world. I delighted in her and those red cheeks. I found that every time she giggled or those eyes of hers whirled around a little, I could feel my heart beat a little faster. 25 years ago, she seemed to be so innocent, so pure and so naïve. I didn't want to admit it but I loved the fact that she didn't know the evils of the world. She was so optimistic, so positive and so happy all the time. I think that's where Jane gets the good-natured part of her. And that temper. I suppose that's where all the girls get their tempers. She was looking at me now, with a blush on her cheeks and her honey colored eyes disapproving.
The next thing I knew, we were married. They were fond years, though I would never admit that to her. 25 years of marriage and I regretted not a day, because everyday, I would see her blush and still respond the same way to my teasing as she did when we first met. I thought of my life with this Anne, or was it Mary, that I was supposed to marry. And then I look across the table at her. What is a marriage without respect for your partner?
But her eyes were whirling again, her cheeks flushed and her mind on something else. Respect for one's partner is not as important as being in love. I smiled to myself and proceeded to tease her for the rest of the day.