Madam and Missy — A Pride and Prejudice Variation

This is dedicated to all the writers both here and on KU who've released their stories for free! As I enjoy reading them so much, I thought that I'd have a go, and here it is.

[Note that I'm a Brit, so have written with British spelling, punctuation and terminology 😏]

In which there are surprises for some of the Bennets

Longbourn

Lydia

Mrs. Hill entered the parlour with a note for Lydia. She opened it and laughed seeing the cipher used. In her father's book-room, she decrypted it to read:

'General — please bring your father to Netherfield as soon as you can — Barney McGrew'

And laughed again. She read it aloud to Mr. Bennet. "It is from Uncle Hugh — we must away, Pappa."

"I suppose that we must," he grumbled. "Would you tell Charlotte where we are going while I have the horses readied?"

Less than twenty minutes later, they were cantering towards Netherfield, Mr. Bennet's heart stopping every time Lydia urged her horse over the fences along their way. As they arrived, the door opened to reveal Mrs. Nicholls, while a stable boy came to take the reins from them.

"Good morning, Mr. Bennet, Miss Bennet," said the housekeeper in greeting.

"Good morning," they replied.

"Ah, there you are, Bennet, General!" a voice boomed from within. "About time!"

"Matlock," Mr. Bennet said as he shook the proffered hand.

"Uncle Hugh," said Lydia, as Matlock kissed her cheek. "We should have arrived sooner; I jumped all of the fences, but had to wait while Pappa went through the gates!"

"Very well, you are here now. Come this way." He led them to the parlour and opened the door. "I shall wait here."

Confused, Bennet father and daughter entered the parlour. As the doors closed behind them, Lydia saw, for the first time in her life, her father go pale. Her eyes widened when he gave the deepest bow she believed possible. Very quickly understanding his actions, she curtseyed similarly.

123

They left Netherfield barely fifteen minutes later, mounting their horses automatically and riding slowly away.

Shocked silence hung over them until Lydia cried, "I shall race you to the top!" and galloped away. They reached the top of their small hill and sat beneath the oak. Lydia started to tell the story of their land, encouraging her father to join in.

Silence fell again, then Lydia took a small box, wrapped in fabric and tied with a blue ribbon, from her pocket, and asked, "Well, Sir Thomas, shall we see what is in this little box?"

"Er, er, yes, what is your gift?" he managed to reply.

Lydia carefully untied the ribbon and pulled away the fabric to reveal a jewellery box. Opening it, she laughed to find it stuffed with ribbons.

"Royal ribbons, Pappa! Shall I dare wear them?"

She pulled them out of the box, one by one, to admire the various colours, and found a smaller box hidden amongst them. Inside was a small gold cross set with sapphires hanging on a string of pearls.

"Oh, there is a note too. It says, 'With our gratitude'."

The newly knighted Sir Thomas Bennet was unable to speak, so took her hand and kissed it.

They remained sitting among the roots of the ancient oak — he in silence, she sorting her new ribbons. Eventually, with grumbling stomachs, they stood and, instead of riding, walked back to Longbourn leading the horses.

"This afternoon, I shall take Jane, Lizzy and the girls out while you tell Charlotte, unless you tell her under the oak," said Lydia as they walked through the woods. Noticing his lack of reply, she nudged him. "Pappa, shall we return to Netherfield and ask His Highness to take the knighthood back? I should not like that, as I should have to return the ribbons too."

"Er, no, er, no, that will not be necessary," mumbled Sir Thomas.

When they reached Longbourn, Lydia ran into the kitchen and asked Mrs. Hill to quickly make a picnic for two. Then she found Charlotte and told her that she was to take her husband for a walk. "He has something to tell you, and you might tell him your news too." Lydia looked meaningfully at Charlotte's abdomen.

"Lydia!" Charlotte protested, blushing.

She burst into the book-room, crying, "Pappa, Mrs. Hill has readied a picnic basket for you and Charlotte. 'Tis such a nice day, you may as well enjoy it together." She shooed them out of the house and joined her sisters for lunch in the dining room.

Lydia

A fortnight, or so, later, standing with her father, Charlotte and her sisters, Lydia watched as Lady Harriet accepted her husband's hand to climb out of their carriage. As they greeted her, Matlock helped Lady Prudence.

Charlotte offered the visitors the opportunity to refresh themselves and invited them into the parlour.

"I am so pleased to find you well, Charlotte," began Lady Harriet.

"I am well, too," interjected Lady Prudence.

"I cannot tell you how relieved I am to hear that, Aunt Prudence," replied Charlotte. "Lizzy told me that you played a vital role in last month's plan."

Lady Prudence looked pleased with herself and said, "It is a cross that I bear: the housekeeper's footmen, like all men, were enslaved by my beauty." She fluttered her eyelashes at Sir Thomas, and continued, "Is it not, Sir Timmy?"

"Very much so, my lady," he replied.

Lydia laughed to see Charlotte cast suspicious looks between her father and Lady Prudence, while the flirtatious pair feigned wide-eyed innocence. We could not wish for a better stepmother!

Mrs. Hill and the maid came in with tea things and, while Kitty poured, the women took seats and exchanged their news with the ease of affectionate friends. The men allowed themselves to be tempted away to Sir Thomas' book-room and the promise of something stronger to drink. Chatter was flowing around the room when Mrs. Hill came in again, this time to announce the arrival of Mr. and Mrs. Bingley.

"Ah, there you are, Mr. Really-Charles," began Lady Prudence. "As I did not have the opportunity to berate you the last time we met, surrounded as I was by ardent young men in red uniforms, I have not had the opportunity to castigate you for taking the opportunity of eloping with my very distant niece.

"What have you to say for yourself, Mr. Really-Charles? Mmm?"

Mr. Bingley looked taken aback as the women all looked at him expectantly. He had no need to reply; Lady Prudence had not finished.

"Have you brought dear Miss Lineley-Bingle with you, very distant nephew, Mrs. Really-Charles? I know not if it is the fashion to sniff in the middle of men's names and I should not care to be dismissed as unfashionable. It was not so when I was living in Shropshire, but … oh ..." Her voice drifted away.

"Perhaps you might start a new fashion, Mother," suggested Lady Harriet.

"Oh, yes!" piped up Lydia.

"Do you think that I could?" Lady Prudence looked pleased. "Me, start a new fashion? Mmm? What should it be?"

"Perhaps cough in the middle of the man's name," suggested Lydia.

"'Mr. —cough— Really-Charles'?"

"No, Mother, that lacks elegance."

"Dear me! Lacking elegance is almost as dreadful as being considered unfashionable." She shuddered.

"A sneeze?"

"A sneeze, Lydia Lemon-cake? A sneeze? I am not convinced, but let us see, Mr. —achoo— Really-Charles."

"Oh, I think not, Mother. That lacks charm," said Lady Harriet while the Bennets congratulated Lydia on her new nickname.

"Neither elegance nor charm! Oh, the shame of it! Busy Lizzy! Attend me!"

"Yes, Aunt Fitzwilhelmina." Elizabeth was rocking Phoebe on her lap and looked up.

"You have been very quiet, Busy Lizzy. Have you no ideas for making me fashionable?"

"I have always considered you to be fashion personified, the very goddess of fashion, if you like, but— "

"'The very goddess of fashion', I like that!" Lady Prudence sat up with pride. "Goddess of fash— no, no! I see what you are about, Busy Lizzy. You are acting — most shamefully acting — I should say, on Sir Timmy's behalf— "

"In what way?"

"You think to pass compliments and secret messages to me without your step-Charlotte being aware!"

"If I were, I should be the last to admit it in Charlotte's hearing!" laughed Elizabeth.

Lydia laughed too as Charlotte again pretended suspicion.

"No, no, Aunt Ariadne— "

"Clotho, Lizzy," Lydia interjected. "Clotho was the goddess of fashion."

"Really? But do you not agree that Ariadne suits Aunt Prudence better?"

"Do you mean with her ball of thread and the mazes?"

"Mm, indeed."

"But it was Clotho who spun the thread," pronounced Lydia.

"Perhaps the two, hyphenated together: 'Ariadne-Clotho'. What think you?"

"'Aunt Ariadne-Clotho'?"

"'Aunt FitzAriadne-Clotho'?"

"'Aunt —sniff— FitzAriadne-Clotho'?"

With raised eyebrows, Lydia and Elizabeth turned to face Lady Prudence.

Charlotte fished a spool of thread from her mending basket and passed it to Lady Prudence.

Lady Harriet laughed and joined the others in looking at Lady Prudence. "Well, Mother?" she asked.

"You, you," cried Lady Prudence, waving her finger at Elizabeth and Lydia, then at Charlotte "and you! Fishy names all round!"

Sir Thomas

Hearing their laughter, he and the other men chose not to remain apart from the women, so they crowded into the parlour to find out what Lady Prudence was about. I assume that it is the Imp making them all laugh so, he thought.

"Ah welcome back, Sir Timmy," cried Lady Prudence as they settled themselves and accepted cups of tea from Charlotte. "We are awarding fishy names to some of my very, very distant nieces."

"'Fishy names', my lady?"

"Well deserved fishy names, I must say. Well deserved, indeed," Lady Prudence replied.

"We are extremely honoured, Pappa," Lydia interjected to explain, "Aunt —sniff— FitzAriadne-Clotho is so enamoured of her new status as the goddess of fashion, that she is blessing me and Lizzy with coveted fishy names!"

"Yes, child, but what are fishy names?" 'FitzAriadne-Clotho'?

"Oh, Sir Tinley, fishy names! Miss Trout names!"

'Sir-Tinley'?

Lady Prudence continued, "Certainly, Sir Tinley! These very, very distant nieces have earned Miss Trout names— "

Sir Thomas groaned and missed Lady Prudence's next words. 'Sir Tinley'! Oh, 'Certainly'! He groaned again.

"Are you well, Sir Tinley?" cried Lady Prudence. She turned to Charlotte. "Dear Lady Step-Knott! Do attend Sir Tinley. I should not wish for an ill innamorato."

Elizabeth and Lydia laughed at Lady Prudence's pronouncement while Sir Thomas groaned again.

"Are you well, Sir Tinley Knott?"

'Sir Tinley Knott'? Oh, he groaned once more. 'Sir Tinley Knott'. Certainly not!

"Certainly not!" He was losing this joust of words, but continued gamely.

"No, no! You are Sir Tinley Knott! I am Lady Prudence Ariadne-Clotho Tenston!"

"Does my father deserve a fishy name, Aunt?" interjected Lydia.

"What is a 'fishy name'?" Sir Thomas asked again.

"Certainly not, Sir Tinley Knott!" Lady Prudence exclaimed. "Fishy names are awarded for great wittiness, and I should not call your father a wit!"

"Can I ask, without attempting the slightest bit of wit, what is a 'fishy name'?"

"'Bit of wit'? Does wit come in bits?" Lady Prudence mused.

"Iota of wit?" Elizabeth asked.

"Jot of wit?" asked Lydia.

"Whisper of wit?" Kitty spoke for the first time.

"'Whisper of wit'. That is very good very, very distant niece Kitty.

"Whisker of wit?" suggested Jane.

"No, no, no, Miss Bonnet. Whiskers on kittens not on wits." Lady Prudence turned in her seat. "Dear Miss —sniff— Lineley-Bingle! Have you— oh, no, Mr Really-Charles has not brought her."

"Are you looking for my sister, my lady?" Mr. Bingley asked. "She has remained in London."

"Indeed, Mr. Really-Charles. I wished to know if she had packed my warm woollen mittens for our forthcoming trip to Embersby."

"I shall write to her, my lady, and ask her."

"'Aunt Prudence'."

"I beg your pardon."

Sir Thomas relaxed a little as someone else was the target of her ladyship's silliness.

"'Aunt Prudence'."

It was clear to the Bennets that Mr. Bingley was bewildered. Elizabeth spoke next:

"When you write, you might ask Miss Bingley to put the warm woollen mittens in a brown paper package— "

"Tied up with string," interjected Lydia to general laughter.

"Oh, Lydia Lemon-cake, how did you know? That is one of my favourite things!"

Mr. Bingley spluttered. "I do not understand. Why should my sister need mittens?"

Please don't copy!

Sir Tinley Knott is a character from The Not Yeti, see book/show/5616030