Chapter 1

Elizabeth wondered what they say when they look at her now. Wasted potential? A 'thrown-away' life? She missed when their gaze hardly ever strayed from her beauty of a sister, Jane, to her. Now they can't seem to get enough of her. As she passed on the main avenue of her small town in Connecticut, she frowned as the murmurs of her being 'jilted... practically left at the altar' reached her ears.

She wanted to scream. She most definitely had not been jilted. She had been nowhere near the altar – not even setting a date was in the ballpark range of 'nowhere near,' right? She glowered into her coffee cup as the meddling elderly matrons continued to gossip by the post office that stood across the street.

She'd never hated her annoyingly-small small hometown as much as now. She really wished she'd stayed in New York. But, alas, it was Thanksgiving and she needed to break the news to her mother. Her overbearing, obsessed-with-marriage mother who would most likely throw the turkey at her head when she knew. She would've preferred to call her mother at a time when she would be asleep, so she could break the news on her answering machine and not have to face her.

She would've gone with a simple text, too, but she had considered the fact that her parents still had both a home phone and an answering machine and decided that that would be too cruel. And her mother would've followed up both with dozens of phone calls from any sort of telephone she could get her hands on, if she didn't force her father to make a trip to a city he hated. Elizabeth also had sneaking suspicion that Lydia was still bitter about Elizabeth telling her father how old Danny, the dashing officer, actually was. Her father, who usually let his daughters run wild - so much so that she'd been the one to interrogate Lydia's third boyfriend of the year when Elizabeth had caught him sneaking out of her bedroom during the Thanksgiving break the year before, had actually taken initiative when he found out about Lydia. He stepped in to forbid his daughter from seeing a man 10 years her senior. His threat of filing a police report had driven Danny far enough away that she knew Lydia would jump at the chance to seek revenge. Lydia would jump at the chance at making her more miserable and would easily provide Mrs. Bennet both her cell phone and the locations of any lingering public telephones.

Either way, Jane and Charlotte had both vetoed the ideas immediately. So, against all her instincts she waited until she'd be home to tell her parents. Of course, somehow, the small town of hers had discovered Facebook, and the rumors of her deactivated account had run rampant after the irritatingly gossipy daughter of Mrs. King had run into her two nights ago in New York. They'd been in a bar, her and Charlotte, and Elizabeth had been drunk and angry. Not weepy. She had shouted to the loud bar that she hated George Wickham, and it really hadn't been that hard for them to connect the dots after that. She knew that meant her equally meddlesome mother might have already heard the rumors of her broken engagement.

After Charlotte had shaken her awake and given her a pain pill with a glass of water, she threw on a pair of sunglasses before slipping her overnight bag into the back of the Charlotte's car. She'd never been more grateful to have a best friend and roommate who was from the same town as her. As both Charlotte and Elizabeth had been unable to pull themselves from their work until the actual day of Thanksgiving, the horrible traffic on the way out of the city gave Elizabeth a couple more hours of sleep before they reached the only coffee shop in town.

Elizabeth, whose nausea had finally subsided, bit into a brownie. Mournfully she stated, "I wish they'd stop staring."

Charlotte agreed. "Once again George Wickham has made you the talk of the town."

Elizabeth sighed, as the warm liquid of her latte settled into her stomach. "True. I don't know what I was thinking. We'd only been dating six months before he proposed."

"Not your fault, Lizzie." Charlotte asserted easily with a tug to one of Lizzy's belt loops.

"I just want to yell 'I left him!' But I know that would just make everything worse. He'd be the victim and I'd be the crazy, wild Bennet girl who let George Wickham slip through her fingers." Elizabeth spit out his name with disdain.

Charlotte slipped her arm around Elizabeth's. "Come on, wave politely and let's go do our rounds before the town decides you are now a proud Manhattanite and an old maid."

Both of them had been too caught up in Elizabeth's horrible week to notice the moving trucks parked outside the oldest and grandest home which had once been Netherfield Park. The Park had long ago been an estate that stretched out to where the current outskirts of town now stood, but over time the outlying parts of the property had been sold until only the house and a garden remained. Still, the residence was extravagant, and the town knew that any buyer of the property must be well-off in order to afford it.

It was early in the afternoon by the time Elizabeth parted from Charlotte and arrived at her childhood home. Her home was the second largest in town, and Mrs. Bennet liked to go on about how it had been an estate as well, at one point - the Longbourn Estate. What her mother didn't like to discuss was how almost all of the original property had been sold a couple of generations before her father inherited it. Now, only the house remained, and it constantly needed repairs. Elizabeth figured that the possibility of the house falling into a permanent state of disrepair had fueled her mother's search for rich, eligible bachelors. Not for her, of course. No. She wanted them for her five daughters. Elizabeth and her father had frequently joked that Mrs. Bennet had found a way to maximize the possibility of having a rich son-in-law by having as many daughters as possible.

As Elizabeth entered her childhood home with her, she entered the war zone that was the Bennet house during the entire holiday season. The living and family rooms were unsurprisingly spotless, as her Aunt and Uncle Gardiner were due to arrive at any moment. Her mother went on cleaning frenzies a week before the guests were due to arrive. Elizabeth could only guess how much of a disaster the kitchen was, as that was the only room her mother allowed to be dirty. She shook out her messy curls and shoved her sunglasses into her purse before dropping both her purse and duffel onto the couch.

"Everyone knows that a single, rich man needs a wife! They do not have the time nor patience to run a household!"

Elizabeth winced, as her mother slightly shrill voice greeted her as she entered the kitchen.

"What on earth are you talking about, mom?" She softened her question halfway through as she began to feel guilty about how she had addressed her mother immediately upon returning home.

Her mother shrieked with the delight of having her only (and now formerly) engaged daughter arrive before air-kissing her second eldest in greeting, all while keeping her flour-covered hands held up away from Elizabeth's form. "Oh, my dear Lizzy! We've received the most wonderful news!"

Elizabeth cast a weary glance towards Jane before greeting the rest of her sisters. Lydia, for all her ire, had apparently chosen to temporarily forgive Elizabeth as she gushed about how Netherfield had finally, finally been leased. And to a rich man, no less! And could anything be more wonderful or exciting?

Elizabeth barely had enough strength to keep herself from rolling her eyes. Instead, she hummed and ahh-ed at what she hoped were the right places.

Quicker than Elizabeth expected, her mother managed to simper. "Oh, but you, my Lizzy, needn't worry! You're practically married already! And well too!"

The unintentional jab had been completed with a literal jab into Elizabeth's ribs. Elizabeth grimaced both at the sensation and the comments.

Unwaveringly, her mother plowed ahead. "Speaking of dashing young men, when will George arrive?"

Elizabeth sighed. "Mom, have you been binge-watching Downton Abbey or something?"

Her mother tended to pick up things from whatever she was interested in at the moment. Nothing, no amount of alcohol would ever make Elizabeth forget the week her mother watched Gone with the Wind. Her mother tended to go to sleep early, though, so the three-hour movie had been watched in parts throughout the week. Of course, if there was ever a character Francesca Bennet would identify with, it would be Scarlett O'Hara. She once again questioned how her father, the philosophy professor at the Meryton community college, had ended up with her matchmaking mother.

Like a Band-Aid, Elizabeth reminded herself. "He's not coming."

Before Elizabeth could explain fully, her mother exclaimed. "Why ever not? Oh, don't tell me he's stuck at work! Poor man!"

"No, mother, he's not. I uninvited him," Elizabeth stated simply and popped a grape into her mouth.

Mrs. Bennet's jaw dropped before she shrieked. "What? Why?"

"Because, mother, we're no longer engaged." Elizabeth snagged a whole vine full of grapes before striding out of the kitchen towards her father's study.

There goes my two-month run as being mom's favorite, Elizabeth thought as she went to go find her father. She knew he had to be hiding in the study, reading a book and sipping coffee. He'll understand, she thought.

Down the hall, shrieks continued to be heard as all but one of Elizabeth's sisters snapped out of their shock and protested their sister's so-called temporary insanity.

The thing about Elizabeth's parents was that they were so very different. While her mother gave almost absolutely no thought to her daughters' happiness and well-being, her father was thoughtful and caring. Or, at least to Elizabeth he was. So, it was no surprise to Elizabeth that he said this in response to her news: "Thank God."

"Dad," Elizabeth laughed at the clear expression of relief.

"No, no, I mean it!" Mr. Bennet stood from his desk and came to sit in the seat next to Elizabeth's. "I was going to stage an intervention, Lizzy. That man... he was charming to be sure, but he wasn't much more than that. And you deserve more. So much more."

Elizabeth reached out and squeezed his hand. "Thanks, dad. I feel better knowing that I'll have at least one ally at the dinner table tonight."

Mr. Bennet chuckled, but a more serious tint returned to his eyes. "Of course, sweetheart. But, Lizzy... are you okay?"

Her gaze wandered from her dad's probing one to the many books that lined the walls of his study. "I think so. I'm not sad - I'm furious, and you'd be too if you knew what he did, dad. But I'm not too broken up about it."

"What did he do?" Mr. Bennet's voice dropped an octave. Elizabeth's heart began to beat faster before she remembered she wasn't the one in trouble here.

"I can't say - not yet." She turned her pleading eyes to him. "It's... it involves someone else - an innocent. Maybe I'll be able to tell you someday."

Mr. Bennet's lips thinned into a straight line. He didn't push it and he squeezed her hand once more. "I'm glad you're home, Lizzy Bear."

Elizabeth stood and made for the hall when he called out, "oh, and I wouldn't worry too much about your mother tonight. She'll be busy trying to impress Mr. and Miss Bingley."

Elizabeth groaned but laughed lightly at her father's knowing smirk. "Dad, seriously, on Thanksgiving? Why didn't you stop her?"

Mr. Bennet didn't give Elizabeth a verbal response as he sunk back into his leather seat behind his imposing wooden desk. Elizabeth simply shook her head before slipping back out into the hall. Of course, her mother had taken advantage of the family holiday to introduce the new residents of Meryton to her daughters. And Mr. and Miss Bingley had accepted! As she retrieved her things and started to make her way to her bedroom, she heard the telltale shriek of her mother's rather common freak-outs.

"Thomas Bennet! Tell me you've talked to your daughter – " The sound of her yelling cut off as the door to the study shut and Elizabeth quickly jogged up the stairs to her room.