Summer left and with it, Jane and Mr. Bingley moved into their estate, Lockwood Manor, which was located on the other side of Lambton. Soon after they were settled, Jane announced that she was with child and was due mid spring.

The Colonel also left Pemberly for Sussex. He wrote to his wife to inform her of his arrival and that renting a house was not needed. They were to be provided with a house that they could decorate as they saw fit. A few week after he left, Kate and Josie (Mr. Bennet had taken to calling her that and she liked it so much, she would not answer to anything else) went to Sussex as well. Josie was walking again, with the help of little crutches but she tired very quickly and relied mostly on her wagon to get around.

Pemberly became quieter, but not entirely. Sarah and Susanna required constant attention from their parents, grandfather and Aunts Mary and Georgiana. They were all astonished by how quickly their personalities were formed. Sarah was always awake, watching the whole room, as if she were studying her relations. She never made any noise unless she needed something. Susanna slept the whole day and night, only waking for food and play. She was a giggly baby, smiled at everyone and, like her sister, cried only when in need of some form of attention. They were quite sure that they were identical, but they would not know for sure until they were a bit older. They both had clear blue eyes and fluffy dark hair that stood straight up and could not be tamed.

Mr. Bennet greatly enjoyed his duties as grandfather. He played the infants for hours on end, sent funny letters to Josie. He had even given Susanna a nickname already, Susie, and all thought that it would most like stick as Josephine's had.

Mary had not returned to the parsonage since the wedding and had finished reading all of the books that she had borrowed from Mr. Foster. She was tempted to just have a servant take them but she knew that he could not be avoided forever. While she saw him every Sunday at church, she always left quickly so that awkwardness was avoided. But the christening of Sarah and Susie was growing nearer. She could not avoid him then, it was impossible.

One morning, she decided that she had been foolish enough, borrowed Georgiana's phaeton, which she had learned to drive, and paid a visit to the parsonage. When she pulled up in front of the house, Mr. Foster was in his garden, picking dead blossoms off the vines growing on his house. He did not seem to hear her drive up. From her seat, she could see that he was bleeding quite badly from the thorns. She jumped out of the phaeton, abandoning the books, and ran to the cleric.

"Mr. Foster, are you all right?" She stood a little ways away from him, so not to make him uncomfortable.

"Miss Bennet! Forgive me, I was not expecting you." He hid his hands behind his back, but he knew that she had seen them. "I… I was catching up on my gardening; I have fallen behind this week due to unforeseen events."

"I understand. I have come to return your books."

"Good. Um, thank you. May I help you bring them in?"

"Oh, no, I can manage." She went back and collected the many volumes with greater ease than he had expected. They went into the house and to the library. As she placed the books back on the shelves, Mr. Foster attempted to mend his hand. After hearing him wince, Mary turned around. "May I help you? I am quite familiar with such scratches."

"Um, yes, you may." Mary sat across from him and unwrapped the dirty rags he had tied around his hands. She called for the servant and asked her to bring some clean cloth. When they were brought, she took a bottle of alcohol from the small kit that had also be provided to her and poured a little on one of the rags.

"This will sting," she told him as she began to clean his hands.

Mr. Foster winced in pain a few times before asking, "How are you familiar with this type of scratch?"

Mary smiled. "My youngest sister, Lydia, once pushed Kate into the rose bush in our garden. I cared for her."

"My goodness, how old were they? Six, Seven?

"Fourteen and sixteen. Kate had refused to let Lydia were her best dress to a party." She chuckled to herself. "My mother blamed Kate, saying that she should have just let Lydia have the dress, my mother always gave Lydia what she wanted. It was easier that way."

"How badly was she hurt?"

"Very badly. She had to be cut out of the bush because her dress was so tangled in the thorns. Her entire back, her arms, legs and face were scratched. We had to clean her wounds twice a day for a week because Lydia left her there and my sister Jane and I found her almost an hour later."

Mr. Foster cleared his throat uncomfortable as Mary wrapped his hands in the remaining clean rags.

"My fiancé, Lady Emilia, was just here. She has broken off our engagement."

Mary was shocked but not sorry. "Forgive me if I am imprudent, but why?"

"She is in love with someone else and is with child."

Mary gasped. How scandalous! A woman, engaged to a man, carrying another man's child! Had she taken more after her mother, all the neighborhood would know it by nightfall. But, as she was the most unlike her mother of all her sisters, she instead reached over to the table behind her that held several liquors and choosing a bottle of wine, she placed it in front of Mr. Foster. "Normally, I do not condone the drinking of alcohol, but I feel that now is an appropriate time and will not judge you for it."

Mr. Foster smiled at her and laughed after a moment. "No, I do not drink. I only keep it for my guests."

They talked for hours until Mary realized that it was only an hour before dinner was to be served and she must take her leave. Mr. Foster followed her outside and helped her into the phaeton.

"May I call on you tomorrow, Miss Bennet?" he asked nervously.

"Yes, you may, Mr. Foster." Mary drove off, saying aloud, "how well "Mary Foster" sounds."