As his parents had wished, Henry Bennet had the good looks of his mother, along with her cheerful demeanour. Blond headed and rosy cheeked, healthy and strong, it appeared that the Bennets had indeed received good fortune in bearing a son to continue the Longbourn legacy. Mrs Bennet often looked at her boy, who would become the master of Longbourn once his father died, and felt grateful. She shuddered to think what her fate may have been had she not borne a son, and chided herself for ever hoping for a daughter.
Not surprisingly, Henry was very much protected by his mother, who was convinced that every sniffle or scrape would lead to his demise, thus depriving Longbourn of its heir. She regularly went into fits of hysterics over the thought of Henry dying, and Mr Bennet dying, and the estate falling into the hands of Mr Bennets horrid uncle and his children, who would most certainly throw Mrs Bennet and any remaining children out into the street. Mrs Bennet logically assumed that the best way to alleviate her fears would be to bear more sons, and set about achieving this task. Alas, Mrs Bennets fears only grew worse as the years went on, as Henry still remained without a brother- but had five younger sisters.
By the time Henry was seven years old, his parents had abandoned any hope of bearing another son to solidify the Longbourn manor remaining in the Bennet family. With six mouths to feed, Mr Bennet had been quite adamant that he would not father any more children. As far as he was concerned, he'd done his duty. He'd provided an heir for Longbourn, along with five daughters. Five girls to provide dowries for, and five girls to fill his house with silliness- six if he included his wife. Thomas Bennet was a man who knew his limits, both fiscally and mentally. And five daughters was broaching those limits. Mr Bennet found himself tucked away in his library more and more frequently, to escape the noise and chaos provided by six small children and an ever increasingly taxing wife.
With the realisation that Longbourn would only have one heir, it became Mrs Bennets primary ambition to firstly keep her son strong and healthy, and secondly to do everything in her power to ensure her five daughters had every possible avenue for success in marrying well, thus increasing the fortunes of the whole family in case Henry was to fall off his horse and break his neck, or be killed in a duel. Mrs Bennet was yet to run out of ways in which Henry could meet his demise.
Thus whilst Henry endured tutoring in mathematics, philosophy and languages, his younger sisters were guided by governesses and enjoyed lessons from masters in the arts. The Bennet girls after all, were destined to be accomplished ladies.
Henry was a bright child, having inherited his fathers inquisitive mind. He excelled in his studies, which Mrs Bennet delighted in informing the neighbourhood on a near daily basis. Jane, the eldest Bennet daughter, had a quiet determination about her and was eager to please, yet her studies did not come easily to her. She too resembled her mother and was strikingly beautiful even as a child. As with her older brother, Mrs Bennet was prolific in singing the praises of her beautiful, sweet Jane. Mary Bennet was as plain as Jane was beautiful. She was unlike either of her parents, possessing a dour seriousness about her and being fixated on always following the rules. She displayed an inclination for music from a very young age, but was most unfortunately denied any natural talent. Catherine and Lydia were the chief cause of mischief and chaos in the Bennet household. Much as Mr Bennet would like to claim youthful exuberance as their excuse, he saw too much of their mothers independence in them to think otherwise, particularly in his youngest child Lydia. She bordered on impertinent more often than not, and whilst Thomas Bennet knew he ought to curb this trait, he was struck with the notion that it was a natural instinct in the girl, which could not be controlled. Therefore as was his way, Mr Bennet did not try.
It was no secret that Mrs Bennets least favourite daughter was Elizabeth- the second Bennet daughter. Elizabeth Bennet had managed to inherit the good in each of her parents personalities. She was confident enough to speak her mind and defend her opinions, but where her mother was frivolous, Elizabeth was intelligent enough that her arguments had merit. Mrs Bennet did not know what to make of her daughters sharp wit and was certain it would be a deterrent to potential suitors as she grew older. Despite bearing the near constant censure from her mother, Elizabeth Bennet was a happy natured child. It was perhaps due to the favouritism Mr Bennet showed toward his second daughter. He enjoyed the intelligent conversation and dry wit displayed by both Elizabeth and her brother. Mr Bennet encouraged her love of reading and nurtured her independent streak. Not nearly as breathtaking as Jane, Elizabeth had her own quiet beauty about her. Her hair was shiny and dark, her cheeks dimpled slightly when she talked, as her mothers did, and her round eyes shone with expression. Fringed with long dark lashes and set against her creamy pale complexion, Elizabeth's dark eyes were easily her best feature.
Life did not change much in the peaceful county of Hertfordshire, as the Bennet children grew up. Thomas Bennet spent majority of his day in his library, where only Henry and Elizabeth had any interest in visiting. Mrs Bennet's chief occupation was keeping house, and passing on the local news about the county. The six Bennet children divided their time between their lessons, and walking into the town of Meryton. This was a welcome diversion for all the children- to visit with their friends and their mothers family, and to buy treats from the different stores.
For Elizabeth, the joy was found in simply being outside. For as much as she loved to read, Elizabeth was by nature a lover of the outdoors. Her siblings did not feel the tug of being in an open environment quite like she did, nor did they possess the adventurous spirit which could only be quenched by discovering and conquering a new landscape. Being out of doors gave her a sense of freedom, a connection to the almighty Creator, and a sense of quiet calm- not often seen at Longbourn. And so, the summer months would often find Miss Elizabeth Bennet running, skipping, twirling or simply sitting amongst nature, drinking it in.
As ten year old Elizabeth sat upon a gently slopping field of grass, on a particularly glorious day, feeling the warm sun shining on her face, those very same rays of sunlight were being soaked up by a young man several counties away, doing much the same thing. He too had always felt more comfortable being among the trees and the birds. Things that were alive, but did not require interaction. Conversation was not his strong suit. Today was especially poignant, for this young man was soon to leave his beloved countryside, for the streets of the bustling city of Cambridge. He sighed, and swatted at the long grass and began long, slow strides back to his home. He looked around his landscape, as if wishing to burn it into his memory. There really was no need, as he knew every inch of the estate on which he had been raised for his entire life. Now eighteen years of age, he'd become of age and it was time for him to attend Cambridge in Autumn. Whilst looking forward to the new academic challenges that awaited him, a large part of him was still knotted in anxiety at the thought of meeting new people, and not having his beloved Pemberley to escape to for solace. Still, he was Fitzwilliam Darcy, and he must continue the tradition set down by generations of Darcy men before him. Master Fitzwilliam Darcy could at least take solace in the fact that he wouldn't be entirely alone.
Accompanying him to Cambridge would be his childhood friend, and his own Fathers Godson and namesake; George Wickham. That Wickham was the son of his fathers steward had not altered the Darcy's friendship with the boy, in fact it was Fitzwilliam who suggested to his father that Wickham would do well at Cambridge alongside himself. George Darcy looked upon his Godson as a son of his own, so convincing him was hardly an effort. This it was settled: Wickham would attend Cambridge with Fitzwilliam, at the expense of George Darcy.
Wickham was profuse in his thanks for such an opportunity, and endeavoured to make both his own father and Mr Darcy proud. Fitzwilliams mouth twitched as he heard this pretty speech- for George Wickham had a silver tongue and was never one for missing an opportunity to make love with his words. Many a childhood scrape had been avoided through George Wickham and his ability to deliver a heartfelt speech. That it was Wickham that led them astray in the first place quite escaped Fitzwilliam's notice. Blessed with happy manners and a confidence Fitzwilliam envied, George Wickham managed to make friends wherever he went and usually charmed his acquaintances into accepting Fitzwilliam into the fold as well. For this reason, Fitzwilliam Darcy was less apprehensive about moving, although nothing would provide consolation at leaving behind his beloved countryside.