PRIDE AND PREJUDICEFan-fiction

I do NOT own the copyrights to Pride and Prejudice

NOTE: Sorry, never been to England in my life, so I just write my speech. Also -obviously - neither Mary or Kitty - were not married, nor engaged in the book , so Robert Walters - and Tyler Hale is of my making. And while there was no lake on the Bennett's place - at least from what I can recall- for the sake of the story there is one now.

Opening Scene

The white brick house came into sight. It's paint was chipped - as was the faded brown bricks which lead up to the dining room. I was in no mood to chase down Belinda, Barbie, or Brenda - more famously known as the walking B's. Their hair resembled cotton candy - on a bad day, their fingernails must have cost them a bundle and their attitudes? Let's just say I'm surprised they didn't live with bloody-noses twenty-four seven. And why was I even with this bunch? Because Momma Sue didn't trust the bunch to go off by themselves without causing legal problems in the end.

"I doubt they'll listen to me' I'd protested in vain and ended up being a reluctant chaperone on a visit to the old Bennett home.

Scene 1

The three b…girls dashed ahead of me into a neglected England house -in spite of my warning to respect anyone that may still be hanging around. They'd laughed at such a thought - along with dancing and singing so loud that even those who had gone on would ask to be shot again. Barbie's words were still ringing in my ear as I walked up the stone walkway which lead to the kitchen door wearing my standard cowboy boots, jeans and American southwest western shirt.

Ya, right, Missy, like anyone's still living in this dump. Shouting and yelling is not going to bother anyone Barbie had then ran ahead and helped the small bunches' noise to raise to a level which tortured my ears, and put my nerves literally on edge. If I could have avoided going into the house I would have. However, with them already having gone in I felt there was little choice but to enter myself.

The kitchen was bare - not even the table had been granted a covering. And the walls only dressing was a two-inch layer of thick dust. Somehow I managed to get to the hallway which held a set of stairs. Someone had hung a picture of an old man with white hair - and narrow face- I could only assume it was whoever had once lived in this place. However, as much as I may, or may not, have been right, the only thing I could think of was to find the nearest place to lay down before I lost what little lunch I had eaten. Thankfully - finding my way to what I assumed was the living room - I found enough energy to wipe away any blanket of dust covering the couch and lay down hoping not to lose my head to either a migraine, or my stomach to what I was convinced was food poisoning. The last thing I remember being fully conscious of was the thought someone really needed to shoot the trio's volume button.

"Where's Missy?" Brenda asked as she put on a set of fake diamond ear-rings and blue- beaded necklace she'd found in the top drawer in one of the upstairs rooms.

"Party-pooper is laying down on the couch." Barbie tossed back her head as she found her own set of white ear-rings, and necklaces to put on.

"Maybe, she really isn't feeling well?" Belinda at least had the decency to wonder if their chaperone - who really wasn't much older than anyone in the group- had fallen ill. Barbie did her standard toss of the hair -again- and said she highly doubted it. "Just trying to rain on our parade she is." With that the three went even crazier with the noise level; not to mention saying some not very nice things in regards to the Bennett family; especially the father.

"Can someone please turn off their volume button?" I moaned without the realization I'd spoke the words out loud.

"My pleasure." A male voice answered back. I was too sick to comprehend whether, or not, I'd imagined those words, and faded in and out of consciousness.

Barbie, Brenda and Belinda were prancing around, jumping on the beds and messing with the curtains when a heavy wind blew through one of the open windows. That alone would simply have caused them to shut the opening, however, it was accompanied with the sound of heavy - booted- footsteps.

"Uh, Missy wasn't wearing boots was she?" Belinda asked as she was the first one to have stopped her raucous.

Before Belinda's companion's could reply a man with white hair and eyes shooting fiery red darts their way materialized. "Get OUT of my house!" The tone -not to mention his countenance- demanded his order be heeded; and it was. Three sets of feet fled the room and then darted down the stairs. Grabbing their chaperone was not an option as their minds were far too much on getting out of 'that' house to mess with anyone laying on the front room couch.

What had stopped the noise I did not know, nor did I care. No, the only thing on my mind was the fact I couldn't get warm -nor could I seem to move. Someone must have sensed that for I felt as if a blanket had been spread over me and I could have sworn someone slid a pillow under my head. It was only then I truly drifted off to sleep.

"Dad, I tell you, it's her." Jane walked in and hissed just as her father stood back up from making the female more comfortable.

"Get real, Jane. She just happens to look like her." Elizabeth walked in behind her sister and folded her arms as a disgusted look swept across her face.

Thomas said nothing as he went and looked out the window. His wife had passed away shortly after Elizabeth had married. He had not ever regretted the union- in spite of what some had thought. Sure he'd used sarcasm or humor to deal with his wife's constant chatter. And ,yes, her constant chatter had gotten annoying, but he had his quirks too -so he'd simply bit the bullet. Therefore he'd not truly ever wished the union had not occurred. The heartache of losing his wife had been bearable - with time, but the loss of Micah-Anne had left him in limbo.

Micah-Anne Hawkes. The name alone made him sigh with longing. Her laughter -and smile- had been so contagious. Her ability to not worry about what tomorrow might bring had taught him while you should prepare for the future- attempting to live in it was unwise. Her long brown hair - with a thin covering of sun- had been so soft. And her eyes. Those eyes were not one bit shallow.

"Dad?" Elizabeth watched her father as he continued to look out the window without saying a word. "It's not her. I tell you." Her voice filled with conviction.

"Maybe - maybe not- either way let her sleep. Poor gal looks like she's been put through the ringer." With that Mr. Bennett walked out leaving his two oldest girls to -softly- discuss who the stranger was