EDMUND BENNET

I stared out the carriage window into the early evening outside. My sister leaned against me, her eyes half-closed from the soothing rattle of the carriage. Thank Heavens we were able to escape Aunt Frances and her incessant exclamations about her nerves and her daughters. I have absolutely no idea why she still wants to marry all our cousins off even though there is no real threat. Although the estate, Longbourn, is entailed on the male line, I am the eldest of the Bennets at eight-and-twenty, and so am the heir apparent. In addition, the income of the estate, thanks to me and Mr. Gardiner, has been been raised to four thousand a year instead of barely two.

Besides, even in the highly unlikely instance of my early death, and Elizabeth's consequent inheritance of Westbrook, there would still be Benedict and Francis, my other cousins. I find it fortunate that Westbrook, unlike Longbourn, is not entailed on the males of the Bennet family.

Elizabeth stirred next to me. "Are we there yet?" she asked sleepily. I smiled. Elizabeth was not usually one to sleep on a carriage ride, but the effusions of Aunt Frances seemed to have tired her out today. "No, not yet, sweetling," I replied.

She laughed. "Edmund, please stop using your old pet names for me!"

"Why? You are very sweet, sister mine, except that you can be a bit sour when you want to be!" My smile faded. I still have that inscrutable manner that, Lizzy says, would make me look very disagreeable if I were not so welcoming in air. My manners have improved, it seems, since my days at Cambridge. Perhaps it was because of Darcy; he showed me how lonely such an existence can be.

However, I put an end to my woolgathering and roused myself as the carriage pulled to a stop outside the Meryton Assembly Hall. Despite Aunt Frances' nerves and her constant pestering for all of us, not to mention my own annoyance at being dragged into society, I was excited. This was my first Meryton Assembly, even though I had been visiting here since I was four, before Elizabeth was even born.

"Say the word, Lizzibeth, and I shall come to your defence, regardless of where I am or what I am doing," I reminded my little sister. She was under my sole guardianship, since I had been of age when our parents died, and I understandably felt very protective of her.

"You know I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself, brother," Lizzy reminded me, rolling her dark green eyes. Mine are green as well, but emerald green, with a ring of light blue around it. Her hair is brunette, while mine is darker, almost black. Tonight Elizabeth wore a green gown that matched her eyes, with a gold-coloured sash and black slippers with gold embroidery. She also wore a black-green-and-gold flower pin in her hair. To a partial older brother, she was easily the most beautiful girl there.

"Aye, I dare say I do, but still, is an older brother not allowed to worry?" I nudged her as I offered her my arm, which she took. Beyond, I could see the Longbourn carriage pulling up and Aunt Frances and my cousins piling out. I could see the blue of Jane's gown, the gold of Mary's, the lavender of Kitty's, and the bright pink monstrosity that was Lydia's gown.

I smiled to myself as I led my sister inside. "Shall I go?" I asked. "I must perform my duty as a gentleman and ask ladies to dance." I grimaced at the awkwardness of my words as they came out of my mouth. This was what social functions did to me: made me a stuttering fool who could hardly speak without saying something foolish or wrong. This was why I dislike social functions so much, and why I keep silent.

"Go on, brother," Lizzy said. In a much-welcomed show of affection, she kissed my cheek. "Now, try not to be too taciturn tonight, alright?"

"Yes, ma'am," I agreed, which made her laugh, and I stepped away to look at the room. It was full of young ladies who were not only excited about the arrival of Mr. Bingley, but that of Mr. Bennet as well. I did earn ten thousand a year, after all. I knew, because they were staring at me and my sister. "Cousin Jane," I said, to my eldest female cousin, "may I have the honour of this dance?"

"You may, Cousin Edmund," Jane replied, smiling in that serene way of hers. I knew, however, the strong woman who hid behind that demure mask. However polite and ladylike she may be, Jane is a formidable young woman. She has a slow temper and a loyal heart, and almost nothing will keep her from her sisters and cousins. Her favour is easily gained, but her love is harder won. I am her fierce defender, since her father will not do much.

As I led her to the line of dancers, I noticed that Elizabeth was to dance with John Lucas. John was a childhood friend of ours, and I trusted him with my sister, even if I could not trust him with anything else.

When my dance with Jane ended, I was on my way to securing Mary's hand for her next set when I was stopped by a commotion at the entrance. A small procession of two ladies and three gentlemen wound their way through the willing crowd to Sir William, who was standing near the orchestra.

Intrigued, I wove through people, Elizabeth following close behind, to stand beside my cousins. Aunt Frances fussed over Jane and Lydia, and rebuked Mary for letting her hair be mussed. I smirked to myself; Mary is very much like Elizabeth: lively, willful, and generous. However, Mary does not posses that talent for teasing Lizzy does.

"So that is our Mr. Bingley," Lizzy murmured to me.

I looked. At the head of the small procession was a head of straight but wild ginger hair I knew very well. It was, indeed, Charles Bingley. Bingley had been a very jovial, congenial fellow at university, although he was something of an outcast for his parentage. I befriended him easily, though I was not so easy with his friend, Darcy.

"Speak of the devil," I muttered. For there, at the end of the line, was a tall, proud figure I could never forget. His dark hair served as confirmation: it was definitely Darcy. Immediately my competitive spirit rose up in me as it had the first time we faced each other on the the fencing strip.

As for the others - the ginger-haired, disdainful woman on Bingley's arm was probably his younger sister. I almost laughed at her ridiculous orange dress. I had to admit that it would have been fashionable, had it not been so liberally embellished. And the sparrow of a woman who clung to the portly, sleepy man behind Bingley was probably his married sister. Her gown was similar to her sister's, but a deep red instead of bright orange. The sleepy-looking man with bushy sideburns and brown clothes was likely her husband, then.

I could concede that Darcy was probably the best dressed of the party. Bingley's blue coat was not the best choice of colour, as its brightness clashed somewhat with his ginger hair. Darcy, on the other hand, wore an elegant black evening coat, with a gold-and-gray striped waistcoat underneath. He had good taste, I had always admitted that.

And then there we were, Aunt Frances bustling up to Sir William to ask for an introduction. Of course, he got it for her.

"Mr. Bingley, Miss Bingley, Mr. and Mrs. Hurst, Mr. Darcy, this is Mrs. Bennet," Sir William began, opening with my uncle's wife, "Miss Jane, Miss Mary, Miss Kitty, and Miss Lydia of Longbourn. These are their relatoins, Mr. Edmund and Miss Elizabeth Bennet of Westbrook."

I noticed that Darcy stiffened upon hearing my name. I threw my head back and stared him down. His cerulean eyes, with their golden ring, regarded me as coolly as ever, but with a certain amount of regret. Was he regretting his rivalry with me? If so, I might give him the benefit of the doubt. I gazed at him curiously, and he nodded politely and gave me a small smile.

I nodded back. This was surprising.

I turned back to the others of the Netherfield party. "It is a pleasure, I am sure," Miss Bingley said, coldly to my cousins, but rather too warmly to me and Elizabeth. I glared at her. Last I had heard, she had set her cap for Darcy. Why me? I looked at Darcy, jerked my head towards Miss Bingley, and rolled my eyes. He actually smirked, and nodded.

"I did not expect you here, Mr. Darcy," said I to the Master of Pemberley.

"Neither did I you, Mr. Bennet," Darcy replied. "It was something of a surprise, although I cannot say it has been... entirely unpleasant." He cocked his head and looked at me. I nodded and said, "I myself was not expecting to see you here, so far from Derbyshire."

"Bingley has leased Netherfield Park." Darcy shrugged. "Of course I would come."

"What for?"

"To see for myself, as well as to advise Charles on whatever he may need. And no, Bennet," he added, noticing my look of disapproval, "I did not come uninvited. Bingley was the one to ask me."

"What of your sister?" I asked. I did not know even Miss Darcy's name, but I did know that she existed, thanks to the ton of London and its gossip.

He looked uncomfortable. "She is well." It was not an outright falsehood, but I could tell by his discomfiture that this was not the whole truth. Darcy and I knew each other to the twitch of a finger, despite having once been rivals almost to the point of being enemies. Seeing his roving eyes, when he usually looked intensely at whoever he was conversing with, I could say with certainty that he was hiding something, even if he was not out-and-out lying.

But I let it be. "You have been introduced to my own sister, I know," said I, hoping that he would reply.

However, he did not, and instead moved off to one corner of the room with nothing but a curt, "Excuse me, Mr. Bennet, Miss Bennet," to me and Lizzy.

"How did he know you, Edmund?" Lizzy asked me.

"We were rivals at university, ever since we ended in a tie in a fencing duel in first year. I tried to be friendly, but all he would say to me, besides the usual greetings, was, 'Rivals cannot be friends'. By summer term in second year, we had already established a mutual, unspoken agreement: that we would not even try to befriend each other. We were both too competitive for that. I do regret not trying harder when he was still amenable to it, though."

"Oh. So he is the Darcy you wrote about, the one who is always contesting you?" Lizzy asked, walking with me back to her seat.

"Yes. The fact that we were equals in both birth and status did not help our rivalry. We were evenly matched in everything: wits, wills, brains, brawn, family, and fortune." I smiled at my sister. "Darcy and I, at least according to his friend Bingley, are very similar, and would be very good friends if we only tried. I wish I had."

Just then, though the dancing was to start up again, and I sought out my cousin Mary in order to solicit her hand for the next set. I was extremely fond of Mary, but she was rather flat, having Lizzy's lively personality but nothing of her teasing ways.

Darcy was standing in a corner, and while I wanted to talk to him, I supposed I could wait until later. After all, there was a scarcity of gentlemen here, and if Darcy could not be counted on to do his duty, Edmund Bennet certainly could be relied upon to do his.

I danced the two second, as aforesaid, with Mary, the two third with Kitty, the two fourth with Lydia, and the two fifth with Mary King. For the two second and two third, Lizzy partnered with William Goulding and Andrew Hopkins, respectively. However, she was forced to sit out the next two dances. After my set with Mary King had ended, I led her to her uncle, who had been dancing with Maria Lucas.

I saw Bingley approach Darcy, who was standing near Lizzy and Mary. I could not hear what they were saying, but at the end of their conversation, Bingley apparently gave up and walked away, while Darcy stalked to another corner of the room. Lizzy seemed strangely disturbed, but rose to talk to Mary's friend Charlotte Lucas, the eldest of the Lucas children, and the wisest.

They were laughing over something when I finally reached them. "Pray tell me what is so amusing," I requested.

Elizabeth suddenly looked alarmed, and while Charlotte looked as though she wanted to comply with my request, Lizzy's hand on her arm prevented her from doing so. "It is nothing, brother, simply a small anecdote I wished to tell Charlotte."

"Lizzy," I warned. "Do you seriously want another battle of wills here in the Assembly Hall?" We were both known for our stubbornness, and when we decided to go against each other, it was a hopeless cause. Too obstinate to give in, one would usually only cave at the urging of a third party.

She sighed, although her eyes danced with mischief. "Alright, Edmund, if you want to have a battle of wills, it will not be with me. It was merely a remark I overheard from Mr. Darcy."

Immediately my temper began to smoulder, both at my sister and my old rival. "Lizzy, what did I tell you about eavesdropping?"

"I did not overhear it on purpose," Elizabeth protested.

"Very well, I shall accept that excuse - for now. What is this remark that you were so eager to relate to Miss Lucas?"

Lizzy immediately stiffened. I knew that this was a sensitive matter for her, and I tried to make it as easy as possible. God help Darcy is he had said something to upset my little sister. He would get the full wrath of Edmund Bennet crashing down on him.

"Edmund, please, it really is nothing," she told me, almost desperately.

"You are an awful liar, Lizzibeth," I stated bluntly. "And for that I am glad - at least in this instance. Now spit it out!"

She took a deep breath, and rushed out the words "She-is-tolerable-but-not-handsome-enough-to-tempt-me-I-am-in-no-humour-at-present-to-give-consequence-to-young-ladies-who-are-slighted-by-other-men." I understood that there were supposed to be pauses that Lizzy had decided to forgo just to get it all out quickly.

My expression darkened. "Where is that Darcy?" I growled, looking around for him.

Elizabeth looked spooked, poor girl. That was probably because she had not seen me in such a temper since I was fifteen and she seven. That had been thirteen years ago, and my rage was more ineffectual then than now.

"Edmund, no!" she ordered me, forcefully. "No!"

"Lizzy, leave this to me. That man insulted you - that is quite enough for me."

"No!" Lizzy repeated. "If overhearing those comments was mortifying for my pride, how much more humiliating would being taken to task for it, in pubic, be for his? Edmund, I know you are angry, but we must also consider his feelings on the matter."

"You are too kind, Lizzy," I spat, attempting to push past her. "He does not deserve such conseideration."

"It was only a passing remark, Edmund!"

"What makes that remark worse was that it was within your earshot, and that we are equal to him in every way!" I snapped sharply. "Stand aside, Elizabeth, and let me deal with this."

"Listen, Edmund Walter Francis Bennet!" Elizabeth cried forcefully, yanking my cravat to make me look her right in the eyes. "You - will - not - confront - Darcy - now," she enunciated carefully and slowly, as though talking to a child. "You may do it in private, but never, never chastise a man for careless remarks in public!"

I immediately recollected Papa's own words to me: "Do what you like with a man in private, Edmund, but never, never humiliate him by taking him to task for foolish actions in public. It is rude, ungentlemanly, and unseemly of one of our station."

"I apologize, Lizzy," said I, straightening, although I was still very offended. "But I swear, my dearest sister, that once I have even a semi-private moment with Darcy, the first order of business is that insult."

I walked away, silently steaming. If there came any opportunity to confront Darcy for this, my old rival would pay in full for the slight he had given my sister.

So I decided to change things up a bit. Since all my other stories are told in third person omniscient, I made the huge jump over to shifting first person. The next chapters will be told from various people's perspectives, including Darcy, Elizabeth, Georgiana, and maybe even Jane and Bingley. Next chapter - the family emergency! Gee, I wonder what it'll be?