It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife. James Bennet, the heir to Longbourn and eldest child of Francine and Thomas Bennet, had heard this from his mother countless times since he reached his majority three years before.

"And an heir!" cried his mother, "else what should I do if something happens to you and your father? Your sisters and I will be turned out into the hedgerows."

"No such thing will occur, Mother," said James, "For you could easily live at Sunderside Cottage." Mrs. Bennet sniffed at the mention of the house that James had purchased a few years previously in Ramsgate. It was not as big as Longbourn, nor was it an estate. James liked it, however, and often spent his summers there. This past summer, he had taken the two eldest of his sisters with him, for society was so unvarying in Hertfordshire. They greatly enjoyed their visit to the seaside, even making friends with the daughters of a few prominent families. They made the acquaintance of a few gentlemen as well and one man who was not a gentleman at all. James frowned slightly at the memory of the man, who paid close attention to a girl of fifteen who was not even out. He was glad that he had been about, and his sisters were sensible enough to mention the man to him.

"There are nearly two dozen fine young ladies in the area, James. Why can you not find one to marry? Or better yet, go to London and find a lady of a good fortune to better our situation," continued Mrs. Bennet, interrutpting his thoughts.

"Have you forgotten that James went to London last season and found the ladies all tiresome? I cannot imagine him liking any lady of the ton well enough to marry her, nor do I imagine many of them would wish to live at such a small estate as this," said Elizabeth, "I grant you that with the purchase of so much of Hander's and Netherfield's lands it is not so very small, but it is not Chatsworth or Matlock, which is what most of the ladies expect."

"You, Elizabeth, may say nothing on the subject after you rejected the proposal of Mr. Lucas," said her mother indignantly.

"Mother, I do not love Mr. Lucas. I cannot but think of him as little Johnnie. I think of him too much as a brother, regardless of what his feelings toward me may be," replied Elizabeth.

"He is Sir William's heir, Lizzy!" cried Mrs. Bennet. This was an oft-repeated argument since Mr. Lucas proposed to Elizabeth that spring. Lizzy ignored her mother and turned to her elder brother.

"Mama said last week that Netherfield Park has been let by a single gentleman who is to arrive on the morrow. Perhaps Mr. Bingley has a Miss Bingley accompanying him that you will like well enough to marry."

"And perhaps you may marry Mr. Bingley," said her brother, for he was peeved with his sister for suggesting such a thing.

"Perhaps I might, if I come to love him, but as I have a brother who cares so very much for me and a dowry large enough to keep me in funds if father should pass, I am not inclined to marry for anything but the deepest love. You, however, must marry, so you may sire an heir."

"Are you so very certain I will not turn you out when Papa dies, Lizzy?" teased James, "You may wish to be kinder to me."

"You would never do such a thing, James, despite your teasing. You love me far too well for that," said Elizabeth, poking her brother in the arm.

"Perhaps," said James, "but you should still not tease me as you do."

Mrs. Bennet, peeved that she was now excluded from the conversation of the two eldest Bennet children, went off to find her husband so she might complain to him of how disobliging her children were. However, he was not to be bothered and told her so when he was found in his book room.

Mr. Bennet was an indolent father, content to leave the running of his estate to his son. It was well for him that his son was intelligent and kind, for the estate had thrived under James Bennet's care. The young man had increased the income of the estate from two thousand a year to four thousand. He had added much to the dowries of his sisters so they each now had a little over seven thousand pounds- enough that should the entailed estate pass to their distant cousin, his sisters would have a large enough income to provide for themselves.

It was to James' dismay that the entail was written in such a way that he could not do away with it, despite his desire to break it. It was written to last for five generations, only to be broken thereafter if both father and son agreed to it. James was the fifth generation, so he might break the entail if he had a son who reached his majority. However, to do so, he first had to find a woman that he wished to marry and sire a son with, which was not an easy task.

Last season, he had indeed gone to town for the season, thinking that perhaps he might find someone he might like well enough to marry. He did not even require love, as he was resigned to his fate as the heir to a small estate. He had known love, but the woman was indifferent to him. Now he simply wished for someone who was comely enough to bed, kind, would be a good sister to his sisters and mother to his future children, and practical enough to be a good mistress of a small estate. To his chagrin, all he found was either daughters of gentlemen who thought themselves above him, daughters of tradesmen who only thought of him as a way to gain entry into the gentry, and ladies of nobility who did not even look in his direction.

James left his mother and sister to their mending while he went out to see about several matters on the estate. He had decided he must visit the Larrysons. The Larrysons were tenants of Longbourn who had recently suffered great loss. The youngest son had died on the battlefield in France, leaving behind a wife very close to her confinement. When the babe was born, the mother passed in childbirth. This left the babe in the care of the grandparents and a hired wet-nurse.

When James arrived, he found that his sister Mary's horse was already in their stables. Puzzled by her presence, he was led into the house by a footman. He greeted the family, but not seeing his sister, asked after her horse's presence.

"She is too good. The wet-nurse is so very tired. The nurse leaves milk in a bowl at times, if she must attend to something or needs rest. Your dear sister is in the nursery feeding the babe with the bowl and a piece of cloth. She would not hear of my getting up to feed little Mary, for she said I needed a moment to drink my tea in peace."

"I know the child is named for her mother, not my sister, but Mary seems quite determined to act as a godparent or sister might for the girl. She quite adores your granddaughter," said James.

"Oh, and we so adore your sister as well. Only this morning she brought new gowns for little Mary and a bolt of black cloth, so I need not dye all my gowns. With the expense of the wet nurse, funds are very restricted, and I fear I might be wearing black forever after if I have to dye them all," said Mrs. Larryson.

"Has your harvest been poor?" asked James with a frown.

"No, sir," said Mrs. Larryson, "it is as it ever was. It has been more difficult only due to little Mary's care, not that we would regret any cost that goes to feeding or caring for my dear Mary."

"Of course you would not, Madam," said James.

James only stayed a little while longer, for it was not proper to tarry too long in a house of mourning. As he left though, he saw a small box that was meant to be locked but was laid open and contained the coinage that the family used to pay for their post. When the Larrysons and their maid were not looking, James dropped all the coins in his pocket -nearly a pound all together- into the box. It was not a great deal, but he hoped it might assist a little. He would tell Hill to send over gift baskets at more regular intervals, for he knew any offer of funds would be refused.

Three days later, at his mother's urging, James found himself calling on their new neighbours at Netherfield. He had always liked Netherfield and had hoped for some time that it would be again let out. The last family who had let the house were not quite to James' liking. Although he tended to see the good in everyone, he was a man of the world. He did not like the way the son in the family dallied with the maids and then, later, tried to make love to James' sister Lizzy. It did not help that Lizzy had been mad at him for some time when he had chased the young scoundrel away, but soon enough she saw the sense in what he had done.

James was led into the sitting room at Netherfield. It was not long that he had to wait before a gentleman with reddish blonde hair, bright green eyes, and an amiable countenance entered the room. They introduced themselves and talked of the weather, how Bingley was liking the neighbourhood and the estate, and were just beginning to discuss their families when Bingley's family decided to join them.

First, a very non-descript fellow entered the room. He was of average height and build, with a larger middle- although he was not what one would consider heavy-looking. He was introduced as Mr. Hurst, Bingley's brother-in-law. Mrs. Hurst was a quiet woman who dressed fashionably and had elegant manners. She was pretty with her dark brown hair and green eyes, but not one who would ever be deemed beautiful. The younger sister, Miss Bingley, was beautiful, or she would be, if she were ever to smile. She had the same colour of hair as her brother, but the most striking blue eyes that James had ever seen. She was very fair and rather tall for a woman. She was dressed in what James knew to be the height of fashion, as he had seen many rich women wearing similar clothing in Ramsgate that summer. However, he thought she would look much better if she wore simpler clothing of milder colours, for the orange and yellow she wore did nothing to recommend her. He bowed to them all and they conversed further as James politely told them of the people in the area.

"We will have a larger party soon, for my friend Darcy along with his cousin, his sister, and his sister's companion will be joining us soon," said Bingley.

"Darcy? Not Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley?" asked James.

"Why yes! Do you know him?" inquired Bingley.

"I do not know him, but two of my sisters -Miss Bennet and Miss Mary- are acquainted with his sister. We stayed at our cottage in Ramsgate this summer. Miss Darcy and her companion were only across the street from us. My sisters and Miss Darcy played duets on the pianoforte daily and occasionally went about on excursions together."

"Oh, dear Georgiana! Yes, Miss Darcy is most accomplished on the pianoforte. The harp too, and I have heard that she plays other instruments as well, but not so very much as the pianoforte. She is a most excellent young lady," said Miss Bingley.

James raised his eyebrows at the use of Miss Darcy's given name but said nothing. His sisters had not been given permission to use the young lady's given name, but they had only known her a few months. Mayhap the Bingleys were friends of longstanding.

It was not long after that Sir William called to make himself known to the Bingleys, so James stayed only a few minutes longer before taking his leave. He hoped Miss Darcy would wish to renew her acquaintance with his sisters, for they had so delighted in her company.

He wondered if Mr. Darcy would recall his name from the letter he had sent to him that summer. It was not done to write to someone without an introduction, but he could not let what was going on with that fellow Wickham and Miss Darcy continue without knowing if the brother was aware. He got no letter in response. Mr. Darcy simply arrived one day and took his sister away, much to James' relief. It was said the young lady had thirty thousand pounds, so despite not yet being out, he had no doubt she was beset by fortune hunters often.

Longbourn, Hertfordshire

Twenty-sixth September

My dear sisters,

I hope you get on well in your studies and are making friends. I know you are very angry that I have made you again return to school instead of letting you come out, but I believe you shall be grateful when you are older and have the accomplishments required of a lady of your status. For now, you believe that all you wish for in a husband is a red coat. While a high-ranking officer who is perhaps a younger son might do very well for you, I wish you to have the accomplishments enough that you might appear to advantage in any drawing room of the ton.

Kitty, I am so very glad that you are enjoying your music lessons. I will be certain to purchase a harp and a lyre for Longbourn. I have not known anyone who plays the lyre, so I will be most interested to hear you play. Lydia, do you like your music lessons? You did not write to tell me what instruments you selected. I would be happy to purchase any that you may require. I also will look for masters who might visit when you are home, should you wish it.

I have heard from both of your language masters. Please do not be cross with them. They only wish for you to take your studies seriously. Should I receive excellent reports from your language masters upon the end of the next term, I shall take you to London to the opera and you might put your French and Italian to good use.

As for the goings on in Hertfordshire, you no doubt have heard from Mama that Netherfield park has been let. I like the fellow- Mr. Bingley- who let it very well, but I have only met him once. He is friend to the brother of an acquaintance of Lizzy and Mary, a Miss Darcy. He says that Mr. Darcy and Miss Darcy shall join them soon at Netherfield. Lizzy and Mary are both excited to see the young lady again. I know very little of the brother, but I look forward to making his acquaintance.

I hope to hear from you both soon.

I am, as always, your affectionate brother,

James