June 19, 1812 – Longbourn

Jane Bennet had come to think of herself as a formidable woman, with practically no limits. She had successfully left her home, acted as governess to three children with an abominable set of parents, taken charge of said three children under severe pressure, traveled 400 miles with three children and a maid on £10 while confusing her trail sufficiently that nobody but Lizzy would ever be able to follow. She had accosted her dilatory father in his own den of iniquity, and was now effectively the Master of Longbourn. Yes, Jane Bennet was indeed a daunting woman, not to be trifled with, not to be opposed, implacable in her purpose.

As such, she was quite surprised to find she had her limits. There were things that were absolutely beyond her ability to endure. This realization came after about two hours of listening to her sister Kitty cry, wail and carry on as if the entire world had conspired against her; rather than her being a victim of her own foolishness.

Jane Bennet, for the first time, regretted that they weren't all brothers. Should Kitty be a brother, she could simply drag him outside by the scruff of the neck and settle the matter with fisticuffs. Were he a brother, she might even dispense with dragging him outside, and perform the office right here in the bedroom. Were he a brother, she would at the very least be able to shout him into order without the rest of the household staff deserting, en masse.

Instead, she was stuck listening to this spoiled, wailing child, until she reached her absolute limit. She had tried patience, she had tried consoling, she had even tried screaming at the girl, and nothing did the trick. Everything just sent the poor girl into a deeper bit of wailing, and Jane ended up quite at the end of her capacity, not sure whether she should be feeling anger or sympathy for the wayward sister.

Finally, she had enough. She left Kitty to her wailing for a few moments, and stepped out to the hall to consult with her new confidant.

Jane asked, "Mr. Stewart, what tasks are you prepared to engage on my behalf. I am thinking of an extremely unpleasant one that may well be beyond your remit."

Norman looked at her and said, "As far as I am concerned, and I believe both Miss and Mr. Darcy would concur, I work for you now, Miss Bennet. There is no task I will not undertake. You would not ask anything dishonorable of me, and that I am afraid is my limit. What do you have in mind?"

Jane thought through what to say, and said, "Mr. Stewart, I feel like a soldier who is overmatched, overrun, needing reinforcements."

"How may I assist, Miss Bennet?"

Jane continued, "Dealing with my sister is clearly beyond my capabilities. I am afraid I need a… a… "

Here she stumbled over her words, not knowing exactly which word would meet her needs.

She finally continued, "…I need someone who has the skills to deal with a problem of this sort. I need someone with the inclination, the aptitude, the desire, the patience, the fortitude and the training for such a difficult task. I need someone to undertake the most unpleasant task of bringing this recalcitrant sister back into the fold."

Norman asked curiously, "Where shall we find such a person?"

Jane gave the young man what she suspected was a bit of an evil grin, and said, "This job is too much for me. This is a job for Georgiana Darcy and Amelia Bennet. Would you be so kind as to take her to the coach, carrying her bodily if necessary, and deliver her to Netherfield? Miss Darcy expressed interest in meeting the rest of the Bennets. Perhaps she will realize her mistake too late."

Norman laughed at the absurdity of the plan, but agreed it was the best they had, and proceeded to do as he was bid. He had no idea if Miss Darcy would be thrilled to be of use, mortified at the state of the second youngest Bennet girl, or just confused; but he had faith in both women and even more in Little Miss Amelia, so he felt confident all would be well in the end, although the middle might be on the rough side.

As he prepared to leave, Jane said, "I depend on you to tell me if I ask too much Mr. Stewart. Should Miss Darcy not be up to the task, or even if she is disinclined, just bring Kitty back and I will deal with her, but I think my presence might inhibit Miss Darcy from being able to help."

Norman laughed, and said, "I think Miss Darcy is finding life here a bit too dull and easy. She was perhaps expecting more excitement than had been delivered thus far. I believe she may well relish the challenge."

Jane said, "I hope so, Mr. Stewart. I hope so."


July 2 1812 – Kent

Nostalgia!

Now there was a £10 word that Lizzy would have loved to use. Mary Bennet had never thought she might use such a word, and in such a context; but such was the case. She was experiencing nostalgia for her washtub. At this very moment, standing over a steaming tub, sweating like a goat, stirring the laundry for hours at a time, in retrospect seemed like the ultimate luxury.

Instead, she was stuck, trapped, entombed in the very worst place she could imagine. Yes, at the insistence of her new relentless taskmaster, she was stuck at the modiste, having a third dress fitted. She wanted to scream at the tedium of the whole process. How many dresses did a colonel's wife need, and why did they need to be fitted so carefully? What was wrong with her old dresses?

With a start that earned her a poke in the leg with a pin, she realized she had said the thought aloud, and her life was effectively over.

Anne de Bourgh replied, "Since you are going to the Canadas, and will be living rough with the army, I believe you might just get by with only six. I would not go so easy on you if you were staying here… but then…"

Mary groaned at the very words, 'but then'. They always presaged yet another one of Anne's brilliant ideas. After a fortnight in each other's company, they were long on a given name basis, at Anne's insistence. They were to be cousins after all.

The only bright spot on the horizon was that this ordeal would end eventually. She really liked Anne, and thought she could love her as a cousin should she ever settle down; but she was happy to know she would be married soon, and would escape more dressmaking by the simple expedient of separating herself from her new cousin with an ocean. Anne would not follow her to the new world, would she?

Anne interrupted her ruminations by remarking, "Oh Mary, did I mention my mother is away from Rosings! You must come for tea, this afternoon."

Mary refrained from groaning aloud, because all it ever accomplished was either more enthusiasm from her cousin, or laughs of delight from the insufferable man she was to marry, or both.

She, probably ill-advisedly asked, "Where did your mother go? She apparently did not approve of my betrothal plans?"

She reflected that must be the biggest understatement she had ever uttered. Lady Catherine's displeasure with her nephew was now the stuff of legend. Everyone she knew in Hunsford had the story from one servant or another, although some of the rumors were probably a touch overdone. It did after all seem unlikely pistols or swords had been involved, but if words were weapons, Lady Catherine had used her entire arsenal. Fortunately, after facing down French troops in Spain, the colonel was not to be outmatched by his overbearing aunt, and he simply allowed her to vent her spleen as long as necessary, then repeated what he had said at the beginning; apparently several times.

Anne said, "I am sorry about that. You would have been safely in Hertfordshire without my intervention."

Mary took pity on the young woman. She was an odd mix to be sure. Pale and sickly looking, she had according to her own words been quite ill most of her life. Trapped in Rosings with a few nursemaids, governesses and her mother, it was a wonder she was still sane; so a little bit of overenthusiasm could be tolerated.

Mary said, "Do not fret Anne. None of us should have to apologize for our relatives. We all have an embarrassing lot, do we not? And besides that, remember that my visit to Hertfordshire is not necessarily going to be the highlight of my year."

Anne giggled at that. It turned out, that after so many years of being sick, she was no longer really up to the task of remaining unhappy for long. With her health on the gradual mend, she had even started taking short walks with Mary about the area, and she was looking forward to a bright future.

Mary said, "Perhaps once this hateful process is complete…" At that, she gasped at her incivility and looked at the modiste in mortification, but the lady said, "Do not fret Miss Lion Soon To Be Fitzwilliam. I take no offense."

Mary smiled at the woman, and nodded her thanks. The modiste for her part could not possibly take offense to the woman who had helped so many in the village this last half-year.

Mary said, "Perhaps, now that your mother is missing, we should make our escape to Hertfordshire?"

Anne agreed to the scheme. All that needed to be done to prepare a wedding to be proud of had been done, and absent the bride and groom, all was ready.

As they walked out of the shop, she asked, "Anne, I'm wondering. Your mother is missing, but do you happen to know what happened to Mr. Collins? He seems to be missing as well, and neither his wife nor my betrothed seem to know where he's off to.

Anne just shook her head, and they went off to try to hunt down said betrothed and drag him off to tea with them.


July 2 1812 – Longbourn

"Mr. Stewart, I presume you have removed my father's pistol from the manor house?", asked Jane Bennet as she stepped down from her horse, or more like fell from her horse at the end of her first fortnight as Master of Longbourn.

Norman replied with a puzzled look, "Yes, ma'am! The rest of the firearms as well, plus the knives. They're all stored safely at Netherfield. Why do you ask?"

Jane said, "Because that is the only thing guaranteed to keep me from shooting this horse. I never want to get on another horse as long as I live."

Norman laughed uproariously. He had to admit that even if his interests lay elsewhere, he really liked Miss Jane Bennet, and he was looking forward to meeting the man who could keep up with her; if such a man existed.

In truth, after a fortnight of riding around Longbourn, Jane thought her father was in more danger than her poor abused horse; although he finally seemed to be coming back to himself. The first se'nnight had her fearing for his life and his sanity. He was nervous, irritable, shaking uncontrollably and constantly yelling at some mysterious people whom he thought ready to do him harm. Jane finally just locked him in a room to let him sort himself out… or not. The first se'nnight involved a lot of flying objects striking the wall, and a lot of shouting and cursing; but thankfully, he had seemed to settle down now. He was not the father of her youth, but he was at least not a raving madman… for the moment.

Her mother… well, the less said about her mother the better. She had apparently been relying on her "salts" almost from the start of the debacle, which Jane strongly suspected of containing Laudanum. She simply found every possibly supply of them in the house, and burned them along with all of her father's liquor in a great bonfire in the garden within a few hours after packing Kitty off. Then she locked her mother in a different room, and let her sort herself out. It turned out, that patience was not Jane Bennets strong suit.

Jane asked, "Have you heard how my parents are doing?"

Jane could hardly stand the sight of either of her parents, and thought her disapprobation was not going to make either of them any better, so she depended on Mr. Stewart to look in on them and report on their condition. She thought she was asking a lot of the young man, but he took it all in stride with no apparent effort. Jane hoped Miss Darcy know what a gem she had.

Norman looked sad and said, "Both seem to have desisted from breaking things, at least for the moment. I will look in on them again directly. Perhaps it is time to let them out?"

Jane said angrily, "With a third of the tenants gone, and half of those remaining not even properly planted, my father will be lucky if I ever let him out. The estate will be lucky to survive this debacle. If I did not have Miss Darcy offering her steward to help me, I would have not the slightest idea what to do."

Norman just waited patiently for the storm to pass, as it always would, and Jane finally relented, "All right. Shall we invite them to breakfast in the morning? Perhaps Miss Darcy would like to join us, although I cannot think of any possible reason she would."

Norman snorted again, and said, "You could not keep her away, I'm afraid." Then he asked, "And the children?"

Jane had hardly had any time at all for the children, but Miss Darcy assured her that all was well and everyone, including Miss Darcy herself, was quite happy at Netherfield, so Jane was not overly worried.

She answered, "Not just yet. But I will go visit them tonight… and Kitty too, I suppose."

Kitty was actually the only bright spot on the horizon. Miss Darcy had taken her in the first night, stuffed her in a bath, stuffed her into bed, and then waited her out. The next day she started her assault on the poor girl, with Amelia as her accomplice, and a fortnight had done wonders. Jane thought she might even be able to talk to the girl tonight. She was still seething with anger, but she was her sister, and she supposed everyone should be allowed one lapse in life.


July 2 1812 – Rosings, Kent

"Mary… Anne. Here I am. Where is this famous tea that seems ever so important?"

Mary resisted the temptation to hit her betrothed… too easy, and his lopsided grin showed that he was expecting it. She simply replied, "You will have to earn it sir. Your tardiness does you no credit! Are you late to your battles as well? Perhaps you are the entire reason the Little General is taking over the continent?"

Fitzwilliam laughed, and said, "You, being the expert on nicknames that start with 'Little' are in a much better position to judge."

With that, Mary laughed and admitted defeat, and deigned to allow her intended to sit down to tea with her and her cousin. She was in what she would later boast was the most hideously ugly room she had ever seen in her life. It was apparently decorated with an eye to expense over good taste, or even good sense. It was no wonder her cousin Collins was so enamored with it.

Fitzwilliam said, "Even though you have graciously acceded to my superior repartee, I will earn my keep, even though my honor as an officer and a gentleman demands I hold my ground."

"Pray tell me sir, what have you that would earn such approbation. What have you so important as to disregard your honor so callously?" Anne asked impertinently.

Fitzwilliam gave both ladies an evil grin, and said, "Gossip!"

Both ladies, deciding that the only thing they could do is play along, clapped their hands together like schoolgirls, fluttered their eyelashes in perfect unison, and said, "Please, good sir. Please enlighten us poor ignorant females."

Fitzwilliam said, "I have, right here in my hands, the most alarming communication. It will shock you. Shock I say! It would appear that our mutual cousin, one Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy has finally, at long last, after threatening to do so for quite some time; gone stark raving mad!"

With that, Mary said, "Mr. Darcy! Other than his propensity to roll around in the mud with laundresses, what evidence do you have to offer, good sir?"

Fitzwilliam leaned forward in his chair, and said, "It is said, that he leased Netherfield."

Mary replied, "Truly a sign of a lack of good sense, but hardly madness."

Fitzwilliam said, "Ah, but here's the rub. He only told Bingley that as a red herring to distract the ignorant."

Mary lost all playfulness, and said, "If you are looking for an example of the ignorant, you chose well, sir. In fact, that man would do for any number of bad examples."

Fitzwilliam saw that may not have been his best strategy, decided to try another.

"Yes, but do you know what he actually did?"

Mary and Anne both shook their heads in ignorance.

Fitzwilliam, savoring his triumph gallantly replied, "He bought it! He purchased Netherfield."

That was it. His triumph was complete. Richard Fitzwilliam had rendered both his betrothed and the formidable conservationist Anne de Bourgh into complete silence.

After some time, Mary said, "You win, sir! You are correct. He is mad."

He said, "I thought you might agree. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. Darcy has been playing his cards close to his chest."

Mary asked, "What has he been doing with it?"

Fitzwilliam said, "That's the strange part. This letter from Georgiana says there was severe flooding in Hertfordshire a month ago."

Mary said, "Charlotte mentioned, that but I forgot about it in the press of other revelations."

Fitzwilliam said, "Apparently, he spent a fortnight there fixing the problems at both Netherfield and Longbourn, and then left for Pemberley, apparently to meet your aunt and uncle, but Georgiana will not tell me why. Little Imp!"

After a moment more, Mary said, "We must go to Hertfordshire at once."

"Agreed", said both Anne and Richard at the same time.

They were just jumping up from the table, when the door opened, and the footman tried his best to announce, "Mrs. Collins", but he only got halfway through before Charlotte burst in waving a letter in her hand, practically shouting, "You will not believe it. This is the most wonderful news! Or maybe the most confusing news! Or, well… see for yourselves!"

The other three inhabitants froze in place to hear the news. Anything on top of Fitzwilliam Darcy being completely mad seemed like it would have to be of lesser importance, but they would give Charlotte the benefit of the doubt.

Charlotte said, "Your sister Jane has returned to Longbourn, and apparently locked both of your parents into separate rooms, burned all the liquor in the house, and taken over Longbourn. Oh! And she apparently has three children now!"

Wonderful, or confusing or not… it was at the very least shocking. Both Mary and Anne practically fell back into their chairs. It was left to the battle hardened veteran to slay the foe of incivility.

"Please, sit and have some tea, Mrs. Collins and tell us all about it."

Charlotte said, "I will need to go to Hertfordshire with you, if you don't mind Colonel."

Fitzwilliam, ever the gallant gentleman, said, "It will truly be a hardship to travel fifty miles with three lovely ladies, but I have been trained for hardship, and I shall endure."

Anne managed to restrain herself from throwing something at him or dumping a pot of tea in his lap. His betrothed was much too deep in thought to even answer.

Turning serious, he said, "Shall we leave at first light?"

Nods answered him, so he ventured, "Now, Mrs. Collins, please enlighten us."